


Beacons Dim

by Ozpin_Lover_MP



Series: Beacons of Vale [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Ozpin Needs a hug, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 15:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18758857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozpin_Lover_MP/pseuds/Ozpin_Lover_MP
Summary: Every few hundred years or so, Salem re-captures Ozpin, intent on making him her husband. Unfortunately, it happens again. Bartholomew and Qrow are worried sick. Where is Ozpin? What happened? Is he okay?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Peppermint_Patty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peppermint_Patty/gifts), [Roosterteethlover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roosterteethlover/gifts), [Impjay22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impjay22/gifts), [Lieu-Rey](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lieu-Rey), [Resy_Lesy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resy_Lesy/gifts).



> MAJOR TW: Torture scenes, self-harm, suicidal thoughts and implied rape/non-con. I tried to make sure it wasn't too graphic, but there is a lot of emotions in this fic. If you're triggered by that sort of stuff, please don't read. 
> 
> Thank you to all my friends who have helped, encouraged and inspired me to write this. And thank you to all my readers for appreciating my work :)

It was just one of those days, Ozpin decided, leaning against the balcony bannister. The clouds were hanging low over Vale, and it looked like it could rain at any moment. And he was tired. So tired. 

His sleep had been constantly disrupted by nightmares, more so than usual. It was slightly concerning actually, how many nightmares he had been having recently. It hadn’t been this bad in years. 

It was probably because Salem was on the move. Knowing that she had a plan of action was extremely unsettling. And it brought back bad memories. In the back of Ozpin’s mind was the stupid, unfounded, completely ridiculous fear that she might kidnap him again. She hadn’t managed for centuries. And he was a powerful hunter, surrounded by powerful friends. It wasn’t going to happen. 

Ozpin sighed and rested his forehead in his hands. He should probably go to lunch soon, but… The canteen would be noisy, and with how jumpy he was at the moment, something was bound to set him off. He didn’t want to have a panic attack today. Even if it was probably inevitable. He was so wound up, and so stressed… Something had to give. It always happened when things got too much. 

Still; no point in thinking about that. He might as well enjoy the fresh air. 

It started to rain. 

Ozpin usually liked the rain, but not right now. The canteen roof was made of metal, and it would only add to the cacophony of noise in there. 

Did he really need to eat lunch? He wasn’t hungry at all. He stomach was doing flips, and he really wasn’t in the mood to try and force himself to eat food. 

Boom! There was a clap of thunder. Ozpin nearly jumped out of his skin. 

The heavens opened, and suddenly the light drizzle of rain became a downpour of thick raindrops. Well, there was no use in standing here and getting wet. He’d have to go inside. And he might as well try and eat something. He’d feel worse if he didn’t. Probably. Unless eating made him throw up. No. He could probably keep down food. It wasn’t that bad. 

So much for eating some nice food, Ozpin thought grumpily as he entered the cafeteria. He could smell it from the door; vegetable broth. His least favourite. Yeah, just looking at the yellowy-green slop made him feel sick. Today was not the day to try and eat some. Still, the other members of staff didn’t seem to mind. Bartholomew was eating his quite happily, animatedly discussing some finer point of politics with Port. Port, for his part, was pulling a face every time he looked down at his bowl, but he had always been a fussy eater. Port would call it “refined” of course, but Ozpin just called it fussy. Port didn’t like anything other than steak it often seemed. At least Ozpin would eat most things. Just not green slop pretending to be food. 

Ozpin made himself a cup of hot chocolate and went to sit on the furthest corner of the staff table. Bartholomew and Port had tried to invite him to eat with them when he entered the cafeteria, but Ozpin had politely declined; he really didn’t want to socialise right now. 

At least the other staff were too scared of him - or too polite? - to talk to him. Well, except Glynda, but she was on the other side of the hall, giving Cardin a lecture about throwing food at other students. The fact that most people wouldn’t talk to him usually grated on him. It was so hard to make friends. Ozpin was actually one of the youngest members of staff, and he knew that that was one of the things that made it awkward. People didn’t know how to treat someone who was both younger than them and their boss. Fairly stupid really. He just wanted to be treated like a person, like everyone else. Or maybe that was the bad mood talking. Everything felt stupid today. Stupid brain, stupid weather, stupid colleagues who didn’t want to talk to him… Not that he actually wanted to talk to them at present. Thank goodness he didn’t have any meetings today. He wouldn’t have the chance to accidentally snap at anyone. Maybe he should go to bed early and get some rest… everything would be better tomorrow. Maybe. His stupid nightmares weren’t exactly going to let him get a good rest now though, were they? 

Shakily, he took another sip of his hot chocolate. Okay. He needed to calm down. He had too much adrenaline. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Okay. Five senses. That was supposed to be a good grounding technique. What could he hear? 

There was another Clang! from the kitchen as someone dropped a pot. And there were people talking everywhere. Staff, students, everywhere, chatting with their friends and yelling to each other across the hall. 

And oh, the lights were flickering, and there was a general background cacophony from the rain. 

Ozpin felt his breath hitch. Hang on, he hadn’t counted. There was too much noise. It was like the room was pressing in on him. He started to zone out and practically dropped his hot chocolate. 

Right. Okay. Panic attack. He could deal with that. Step one: leave the canteen. 

Ozpin got up abruptly and speed walked down the hall. 

Step two: find a good spot for a meltdown. Where was the nearest private spot where no one could find him? His office? No; that was too far. The bathroom then. Back to having meltdowns in cubicles it was. Honestly, didn’t this ever get any better?   
He speed walked to the nearest bathroom and locked himself in a cubicle, leaning against the door and sighing in relief. At least it was quiet in here if a little smelly. He slid down onto the floor and tilted his head back. 

Step three: try to breath and survive the meltdown. 

A few tears ran down his face before he hid his face in hands and allowed himself to break a little. Today was really not going well. Why couldn’t he just be normal? This was so stupid. Stupid brain that couldn’t cope. 

Ah, and now he couldn't breathe properly. Okay. Concentrate on breathing normally. Ozpin knew he wouldn’t pass out, that wasn’t possible during a panic attack due to increased heart rate, but not being able to breathe properly wasn’t a nice feeling. It sort of reminded him of choking on smoke, or drowning, or hang- not thinking about that. Remembering his previous deaths was not going to help this situation. He had to think about something else. 

Right. What was that event that Bartholomew had invited him to at the end of the month? The historical society tea? Apparently, he’d asked Port as well, but Port has said it sounded stupid and boring. Actually, Ozpin was quite looking forward to it. The historical society had a tradition of recreating ancient foods that Ozpin hadn’t eaten in centuries. It was a lovely bit of nostalgia. And no one there cared about his title. Mostly because the majority of the members were over 80 years old, and came from wealthy families that were descendants of ancient aristocracy. They were all hilarious and very sweet if a little old fashioned. And they were bound to tell some interesting stories about what they had been up to recently. Last time Mlle Du-Capucine had been sharing lots of stories about her mischievous puppies, and how they had broken into her next door neighbour’s lawn. 

Ozpin took a few deep breaths. There. That was much better. 

Still shaking, he tried to gather himself and stood up. Goodness, panic attacks were exhausting. He really should eat something, or this afternoon was going to be hell. Maybe he had a few cookies in his office? 

It turned out that there weren’t any cookies in his office, but Ozpin didn’t feel like making another trip to the canteen. He could go to the staff kitchen, but there probably wouldn’t be any instant food there. Most people just used it for baking and ate meals in the canteen. In any case, it was on the other side of the school. It wasn’t worth the effort to go there and then find out there was nothing edible. 

Sighing, Ozpin sat down at his desk and tried to concentrate on paperwork. His brain was shot though. He tried to read the top of the page, but by the time he’d read a sentence he’d already forgotten the context. It was infuriating. A thousands-of-years-old being shouldn’t be struggling to read of all things. So much for getting this grading done. 

After a few more minutes of this Ozpin slammed the papers down onto his desk. This was useless. He wasn’t going to get any work done in this state. Glynda would have his head, but he might as well take the afternoon off. 

Ozpin decided to walk into Vale a little way. Some fresh air would do him good, and perhaps he could find a café where he could get a bite to eat. He still didn’t feel that hungry, but his shaky limbs said otherwise. He needed food. 

Only twenty minutes from Beacon, Ozpin found an open café that was still serving lunch. 

He ordered a small sandwich and sat out the back in the shade. At least it was quiet here. 

The waitress came and gave Ozpin his tea and sandwich, and for a second Ozpin thought that maybe he recognised her. 

No… He didn’t know any mute girls with bright green eyes and black hair. 

Blaerh! Ozpin almost spat out his mouthful of tea. What had they put in this? Lamp oil? It was some of the worst hot drinks he’d ever had -including that one time he’d mistaken the traditional Vacuoan “earth drink” for hot chocolate. 

Maybe he just hadn’t drunk tea in that long and had forgotten the taste. It wasn’t supposed to be as sweet as hot chocolate, after all. Still, he would not be coming again. 

The waitress gave Ozpin a funny look through the window. Ozpin wrinkled his nose and took another mouthful of the… stuff. He didn’t want to seem rude. At least the sandwich was okay. You couldn’t go wrong with peanut butter and banana. 

Ozpin shivered. It was a little cold out here. Or maybe he was just tricking himself into thinking it was cold because he was shaking. Thankfully the rain had stopped though. 

Once he had finished his sandwich, and drunk the tea (he didn’t like wasting food) Ozpin stood up to go and play the bill, and immediately grabbed the edge of the table. The world span. 

The waitress walked over to him slowly, smirking. 

Oh. 

He was drugged. 

Ozpin looked around. There was no one else in the cafe back-garden. Just him and the waitress. 

Ozpin grabbed his cane from his belt, planning on swinging it at the waitress, but as soon as his hand left the table he toppled over. The girl kicked his cane away. Then she slammed her heel into his head. The world went black.


	2. Nothing more than cargo

It was dark and noisy. That’s all Ozpin knew. He was lying on the floor, bound up, with something around his neck, but not blindfolded or gagged. The floor itself was completely smooth, yet not cold. Metal? 

The noise seemed to be coming from directly behind Ozpin. It was a sort of whirring sound and was slightly muffled. It was probably an engine… and so he was probably in the cargo bay. 

The air was stale, suggesting that he had been there for a while. Or at least that this cargo bay had been shut or a long time. The temperature was also fairly cool. Much cooler than it had been that afternoon. They were probably at a high altitude then. Which meant that they could have been flying for who knows how long. 

Ozpin tried to light a spark of magic, at least enough to light up the room, but immediately hissed in pain as his neck was shocked. Okay, the thing around his neck was a shock collar. These were professional criminals. And the shock collar that had reacted to him doing magic… How in tarnation? 

Oh. The collar must have been modified to react to magic. That could only mean one thing; Salem. Well, that or James had decided to kidnap him, but that was highly unlikely. 

Ozpin wasn’t scared of Salem exactly. At least that’s what he told himself, even if the dread forming in his gut said otherwise. He just really didn’t want to see her again. Especially without backup from his friends. 

Ozpin rolled over, hoping to find the wall. He knocked into it, and then slowly made his way into an upright position. 

He then pushed himself up against the wall and shuffled until he was standing. Then it was a simple matter to slowly make his way around the room, feeling the wall with his bound hands and looking for… well, anything. A door perhaps? 

He eventually brushed against what felt like a groove. About a meter along there was what felt like a hinge. This must be the door. 

Now the next question; how to get it open? There didn’t seem to be a handle. Ozpin slammed against it with all his weight. 

The door didn’t budge. 

Ozpin leant his head against the door, thinking. There must be a way to get it open.

Suddenly, the room lit up. Ozpin squinted in the sudden light, and before he knew it, the door opened, and he was shoved onto the floor. 

Tyrian marched in, cackling.

Ozpin felt anger seeth in him. He still hadn’t forgiven Tyrian for what he had done to poor Barty. 

“Oh, what do we have here?” Tyrian asked, “Oh yes, my cargo.” Tyrian walked over to Ozpin and hauled him up by the shirt. 

Then Tyrian untied him. “Change into these robes,” Tyrian handed him a pile of fabric, “Her ladyship wants you to match,” 

Thankfully, Tyrian left the room, presumably to give Ozpin privacy to change, or simply to go back to piloting the ship (which was honestly more likely; Tyrian would never give up a chance to leer at human skin). 

Ozpin placed the pile of clothes on the floor, ignoring them. There was no way he would change. He liked his suit, thank you very much. A little seed of dread planted itself in his brain though. It would be much worse for him if he tried to defy Salem. No. He would defy her as much as he could for as long as possible. In fact… 

Now that he wasn’t tied up, how hard would it be to escape? Sure, he couldn’t use his magic, Semblance or Aura because of the collar, but he could still do hand-to-hand combat. Of course, Tyrian would try to shock him, but what if he took away the remote first? Then he would just have to… beat Tyrian. When Tyrian had full Aura and weapons and Ozpin had none. He vaguely wondered what had happened to his cane. 

Well, it was his only option. Ozpin wouldn’t… he couldn’t let Salem capture him again. He simply couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to deal with it. 

He went to where the door was flush against the wall, to see if it would be any easier to open now that it was light and he was untied. There was no way to get a grip on the door. Ozpin couldn’t get his fingers under the bottom, or around the edge. And in any case, Tyrian may have locked it. 

He pushed against the door, hoping that the force would make it spring back. 

It did not. 

Ok, well, if he couldn’t open the door he’d just have to wait for Tyrian to come back. Then maybe he could jump on him or something. 

Ozpin stood beside that door for hours. When Tyrian did finally come in, Ozpin leapt at him and tried to hit him on the back of the head. Unfortunately, Tyrian knocked him away with his tale. 

Suddenly, Ozpin felt immense pain surge through his neck to his body, and he blacked out. 

… 

When Ozpin opened his eyes, Tyrian was standing above him, hands on his knees. 

“Defiant one aren’t you?” Tyrian said, licking his lips, “such a shame that her ladyship wants you in perfect condition, or we could have such fun… such fun…” 

Ozpin pushed himself up and tried to back away. 

“A-a-a,” Tyrian wagged a finger, “if you do that you’ll be in for a nasty shock!” Tyrian waved the remote well out of Ozpin’s reach. 

Ozpin continued to shuffle back anyway, only Tyrian, true to his word, sent a nasty shock searing through Ozpin’s body. 

“That was just a warning,” Tyrian goaded. “Now I’ve brought you some food. Wouldn’t you like to eat?” he motioned to a plate that was on the floor. 

Ozpin barely glanced at it. He was sick with adrenaline and nerves and he knew that right now there was no way that he could eat. 

Tyrian shrugged. “Oh well- see you later!” 

Once Tyrian had left the room, Ozpin scrambled over to the plate and grabbed the fork. Now this, this could be useful. Forks made a good weapon; you could blind someone or stick it up their nose. Also… Ozpin glanced at the door. 

He wandered over to it and slid the prongs of the fork underneath. Then he pushed down gently on the handle a little, wedging the fork well and truly under the door, before pulling it, and the door, towards him. 

He snuck out of the cargo bay, hiding the fork up his sleeve, and ran through the body of the ship, making his way to the front. 

He quietly opened the door to the cabin dang it! There were two men! Tyrian and another guy wearing a long blue coat that Ozpin didn’t recognise. 

Ozpin crept into the room towards Tyrian. 

He just needed to get the collar controller, then he could fight. 

Unfortunately, the man in the blue coat decided to turn at that moment and saw Ozpin. “Wha-?” he exclaimed, alerting Tyrian. 

In a second, Tyrian had pressed a button in the collar’s controller. 

Ozpin felt excruciating pain travel down his spine and his whole body went tense as he tried to control the pain. He could not. Everything went black. 

…

Ozpin was awoken to being kicked in the ribs. 

“We’ve arrived,” Tyrian grunted. 

Ozpin opened his eyes and looked around the room. He was back in the cargo bay, and the engines had stopped whirring. 

Tyrian was carrying some sort of chain. He clipped it to the front of the collar on Ozpin’s neck and used it to drag him up. 

Ozpin hissed in pain. Where the collar touched his neck hurt. A lot. He gingerly lifted his hand to his neck, only to hiss again as he prodded it. Ow. The shock collar had really burnt his neck. Just the collar rubbing against it was agony. 

And his back! Lifting his arms had pulled his shirt tight onto his back that was also in agonising pain. It was burnt. Definitely burnt. 

Ozpin felt his breath hitch. He had died of burning multiple times. He could remember it now; the agonizing screams that had left his throat as he was burnt alive. The desperate thirst for water, and the pain that had enveloped his whole body. 

Tyrian jerked the chain forward and snapped Ozpin out of his momentary panic. 

He stumbled up, trying to protect his neck as much as possible. 

The door out of the cargo bay opened. 

Ozpin froze. He could see the castle from here. They were so close to it. That castle. Where he had first realised that Salem was no longer the woman he loved, the castle where she had murdered their children in cold blood. 

And there, standing at the entrance to the Cargo Bay, Salem herself. She looked as sick as ever, with a slight purple tinge to her skin, and black ribbons throughout her hair. 

Tyrian tried to pull Oz forward, but Ozpin resited, despite the strain it out on his neck. He didn’t want to get any closer to Salem. 

Bad idea. Tyrian slammed a boot into the back of Ozpin’s knee, forcing him to stumble. Tyrian then half dragged, half pulled him down the ramp. 

Tyrian bowed low to Salem and handed her the chain. “The cargo, as you wished your ladyship,” 

Salem smiled. It made here look twisted, demonic, and such a far cry from the beauty that Ozpin knew she had once been. 

She pulled on the chain gently and forced Ozpin to his knees in front of her. 

“It’s been a long time my love,” she cooed, bringing a hand to his cheek. 

“I am no love of yours,” Ozpin managed hoarsely. He discreetly took the fork out of his sleeve. 

Salem dug her nails into the side of Ozpin’s face, and dragged her hand forward, in what would have been a gentle caress if she wasn’t scratching him. Had she drawn blood? Ozpin couldn’t tell. And he honestly didn’t care. 

Ozpin brought his hand up and rammed the fork into Salem’s eye with all his might. 

Salem screamed, stumbling backwards, and Ozpin tried to run. Where to, he didn’t know. He just needed to get away from Salem. 

Unfortunately, Tyrian stepped on the chain and handed it back to Salem. Ozpin grabbed it with both hands and hauled on it. He had to get away. 

Salem snorted, and pulled the fork out of her eye with her free hand. It was already healing. Stupid magic. She then yanked Ozpin back towards her. We'll have to fix this new attitude of yours, it simply won’t do,” 

Ozpin sighed and tried to ignore his rising anxiety. 

… 

“Change, now,” Salem ordered, thrusting the robes at Ozpin. 

Ozpin didn’t take them and they fell on the floor. 

The two of them were standing in Salem’s room. It was a beautifully ornate room, with a purple four poster bed, and matching curtains. It looked quite unused, but due to Salem’s immortality, she probably didn’t sleep much. 

“Listen here,” Salem hissed, walking closer to Ozpin, “you have to do exactly as I say remember? It’s what’s good for you,” 

Ozpin still didn’t move. “I may have once believed you, but you don’t own me anymore. So don’t think for a second that I will bend to your will,” 

A crack! rang out. Salem had slapped Ozpin on the cheek. Ozpin rubbed his cheek gingerly. 

“This is your last chance,” Salem whispered. 

Ozpin didn’t move. This was stupid, he was going to pay hell for it, he knew. But a small part of him wanted to be defiant. Salem had broken him before, tormented him, shattered his self-confidence beyond recognition. Even now he knew he would never be the man he once was; scared of letting people down, failing. Scared of people being upset with him, and still lacking in confidence no matter how many times his friends reassured him. He didn’t want to lose all the progress he had made; he didn’t want Salem to break him again. So even though he was shaking, terrified of what was about to happen, Ozpin stood his ground. He was not going to wear whatever ugly robes Salem had picked out for him. 

Salem grabbed the chain attached to his collar and pulled him towards the bed. Then she attached it to one of the posts. 

Salem stood back, and her hands crackled with magic. Flames appeared, and Salem fashioned them into a rope. 

Ozpin looked at the floor and used his arms to shield his face. 

Salem flicked the flames and slammed them across Ozpin’s side. His jacket protected him somewhat from the force, but Ozpin still stumbled backwards. His top was alight. 

Sighing, Ozpin shrugged his jacket off, knowing that he had lost. Salem flicked the fire at him again, and his waistcoat caught fire. And his lovely turtleneck. Ozpin discarded his waistcoat and then realised a problem. His turtleneck didn’t fit over the collar and chain. 

Salem slammed the fire wip into Ozpin again, and Ozpin hissed in pain. Flames surrounded him. It burnt! It burnt! His whole turtle neck was on fire, and he couldn’t get it off. It felt like it was trying to melt his skin off. Ozpin pulled at it desperately, blinking away tears as the flames burnt his hands. As the fire burnt through the fabric, Ozpin was finally able to pull the turtle neck off, as it came apart and fell in a heap on the floor. 

As soon as he was bear-chested, Selm changed her magic to water and doused him, putting out any remaining flames. 

Ozpin looked down at his skin in shock. It had gone pink and was blistering already. And it burned. It felt like he’d laced it with fire dust. He tried to put an arm over his chest, feeling oddly vulnerable only half dressed, but immediately regretted it when burnt skin touched more burnt skin. 

His arms were already swelling slightly. 

Salem tutted, and fiddled with the controller of the collar. Suddenly, Ozpin fell the cool relief of his aura wash over him, rushing to heal the burns. A minute later, with a small electric shock, it was gone. Ozpin glanced down at his chest, that now looked like it had been burnt a few days ago, rather than a few moments ago. It still hurt, but it wasn’t the searing pain that had been present only moments before. 

“That’s what happens when you defy me,” Salem hissed, “now put your robes on like a good little darling, and we’ll go and meet the others,” 

Glumly, Ozpin picked the black robe up off of the floor. It was made from a thick, scratchy material, and was open all the way down the front. Ozpin shrugged it on and was displeased to realise that it left the front of his chest exposed. 

Salem put her head on one side and smiled. “You look wonderful, now come on,” 

…

Ozpin sat at the table beside Salem. Tyrian was down to the right a little way, as was the man in the blue coat who’s name Ozpin learnt was Watts. 

“Now,” Salem declared, “we obviously have a new source of information. Ozpin, please share what you know about the Atlesian military,” 

Ozpin frowned. “They are a strong military force that was officially established 67 years ago, during the reign of Tonourus Von-Tamu. Tonourus Von-Tamu was the last monarch of Atlas, and ended up yielding his power to the council since he was in favour of democracy -“ 

“Silence!” Salem yelled.

Ozpin was pleased to see Watts snicker, and then cover it up with a cough. 

“Now dearest, don’t tell me you’ve lost what little intelligence you had in the years we’ve been apart,” Salem cooed, “What do you know about the Atlesian Military that is not freely available to the public?” 

“They chose white for their uniforms not as a military tactic to blend in with the snow, but because it was cheaper to produce white armour,” 

Watts coughed louder, and slapped his knee, turning his face away. 

“Something in your throat?” Salem asked menacingly. 

Watts nodded. “I seem to have… inhaled some ash. My apologies,” 

Salem turned back to Ozpin. “Don’t play fool with me. I know what’s best for you, remember, and what’s best for you right now is to tell me what I want to know,”

“Well, what is it you want to know?” Ozpin asked, gulping down his terror. 

Salem grabbed the chain around Ozpin’s neck and yanked his face in to meet hers. 

“I want to know what secrets the Atlesian Military are hiding. I want to know if they have any secret bases if they are keeping tabs on any of my men if they have new weapons they are developing… I want to know everything that could possibly help my cause,” 

“And why would you assume that they would tell me anything? I’m not Atlesian, or a military man,” Ozpin replied coolly. 

Salem yelled in frustration and flung him backwards. Ozpin fell off his chair onto the floor. Vae- Salem was strong. 

He tried to get up, but Salem stepped on the chain, forcing his head back down. 

“If you won’t cooperate, then I can guarantee that you are in for a very rough time,” Salem hissed. 

She then took her foot off of the chain and yanked him up by the hair. “You are coming with me,” she turned to the others, “you’re dismissed,” 

Salem dragged Ozpin to an empty corridor. 

“Do you think it’s funny, making me look like an idiot?” 

“No,” Oz wheezed. 

“I take you into my home, feed you, clothe you, and you repay me by ridiculing me in front of my subjects?” 

“You kidnapped me,” Ozpin muttered. He immediately regretted it when Salem thwacked him across the face. 

“Not another word from you until I’m done. You need to learn a lesson,” Salem seethed. 

She then summoned her a rope from the curtains with her magic and held it out menacingly.

“Turn around,” Salem instructed, “And throw your robe on the floor,” 

Ozpin started to shake. He knew what she was going to do. And it scared him. You’d think after living for so long that Ozpin would have gotten used to physical pain, but he hadn’t. His back was already sore from the partially healed burns from earlier. He didn’t want more flesh wounds on top of that. But he daren’t defy Salem now. He had risked a lot earlier, and now he would pay the price. He wanted to be able to lie down tonight after all. 

Nervously, Ozpin slipped off the cloak and turned around. He put his hands against the wall bracing himself. 

A crack! rang out through the air as the rope swirled down and hit his aching back. Ozpin bit his lip as pain flared across the line where the rope had just hit him. The rope swung down again, and hit him, this time catching his shoulder as it swerved downwards. 

Salem flayed him again and again, and Ozpin bit his lip, eyes watering with pain. 

Then… the rope hit already marred skin, and Ozpin knew that it had drawn blood. He could feel the burn… the trickle of warm blood down his back. 

Salem sighed. “That will do. Let’s go back to my room and get you cleaned up,” 

… 

Half an hour later Ozpin was lying next to Salem on her bed. Salem had adjusted the shock collar to allow him to at least close the wounds on his back, but not enough to completely heal them. 

He lay on his side, facing away from Salem, trying to ignore her. He needed to sleep. He knew that it was vital for his survival; nothing could kill a person faster than sleep deprivation. But his mind was racing. He wanted to escape. He had to! Or wait until he was rescued… 

But that might never happen. His friends would have no idea where he was. He had disappeared from Vale. No one would think that he might be in Crucible. How long had it even been since he had disappeared? Ozpin didn’t know. Probably about two to three days? The flight from Vale must have been at least two days…


	3. Missing Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Oobleck makes an appearance!

Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck could not concentrate on his marking. At all. He was too worried. 

In half an hour it would be 72 hours since Ozpin went missing… The chances of a missing person being found after three days were drastically lower. 

Of course, the fact that three days had passed wouldn’t actually change where Ozpin was. It did mean that the Missing Person Bureau would get involved… Which honestly wasn’t a good thing. Bartholomew knew he would have to lie to them about Ozpin. Ozpin had too many secrets… some of which could be vital information. But Bartholomew didn’t want to betray his friend. But… he also wanted Ozpin to come back safe and sound… 

There was a knock on Bartholomew’s door, and he opened it. Oh. It was Qrow. He personally didn’t know Qrow that well, but Qrow was a good friend of Ozpin’s and working around the clock to figure out what had happened. 

“We found this,” Qrow stated, showing Bartholomew Ozpin’s cane. 

“Where?” Bartholomew immediately asked, taking the cane and examining it. Ozpin never went anywhere without his cane… At least this ruled out the possibility of Ozpin deliberately going missing. He would not have left his cane anywhere. 

“Some cafe down the high-street,” Qrow replied, “The staff are being questioned now, but they don’t seem to know anything,” 

Bartholomew sighed. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Qrow shook his head. “Not unless you remember any other details from the day he went missing,” 

Bartholomew narrowed his eyes. “I already told you, Ozpin looked a little stressed out at lunch, so I decided to pay him a visit after my afternoon class to make sure he was alright. When I got to his office, it was empty. I tried his quarters, the staff room and the teacher's garden, before trying to call him. He didn’t pick up, so I figured he was busy in a meeting and I left a voicemail asking him to call me back. I didn’t think any more of it until he didn’t appear for dinner, and no one knew where he was,” 

“Well, wherever he is, his scroll is turned off. If it wasn’t we could track him via GPS,” 

Bartholomew nodded. “I know,” the two of them stood in silence for a moment. “Coffee?” Bartholomew offered. 

Qrow shook his head. “I’ve gotta get back to the station and see if the cafe staff have remembered anything,” 

“Well if you need any help…” 

“I know, I know, call you. I will,” 

“and keep me updated,” 

Qrow nodded. He was about to leave but then changed his mind at the last second. “Why don’t you come to the station with me, and see if you can get anything out of the staff. Two huntsmen are better than one after all,” 

… 

“I did indeed see a man with silver hair in the cafe that day,” the women, the owner of the cafe confirmed. “He walked in around 2:30, with this short girl with black hair.” 

“So you remember anything else about this girl?” Bartholomew asked. 

“Well, she had green eyes, and she ordered a sandwich and a drink, which she then gave to the other guy,”

“And what happened after that?” Bartholomew questioned. 

“I don’t know; my son woke up so I had to feed him; I often leave the café unattended. There’s a bell that people can use to call me if they need,” 

Bartholomew sighed and pinched the bridge if his nose. Although it was useful to know about this short mystery girl, they weren’t really any closer to finding Ozpin. 

“Thank you for your time,” Bartholomew said, “I’m sure Qrow will finish questioning your husband soon and you can both go home,” 

“It’s no problem- I hope you find your friend,” the lady supplied. 

Bartholomew nodded and left the room. Qrow was waiting for him outside.

“Find out anything useful?” Qrow asked. 

“He was with a short girl with black hair and green eyes apparently,” Bartholomew told him. 

Qrow frowned. “I don’t suppose any teachers fit that description?” 

Bartholomew shook his head. “Not at all I’m afraid. I honestly I can’t think of a single student who does either. I’ll check the register when we get back to Beacon, but I’m fairly sure the person we’re looking for isn’t from the school?” 

“I don’t suppose Ozpin’s talked about having a lady-friend recently?” 

Bartholomew spluttered. “I wish. He never gets out of his office, and he’s not like you. If he thinks someone’s attractive he’s more likely to ignore his feelings than pursue them,” 

“Hey, what are you implying?” Qrow folded his arms. 

Bartholomew rolled his eyes. “I see you every new year’s eve party. By this point, you’ve hit on every staff member here,” 

“No way- come on let’s go track down that girl,” Qrow replied. 

…


	4. Breaking Down

Ozpin spent a restless night, constantly awoken by nightmares. It was ironic; the real nightmare was when he awoke, and found himself chained to Salem’s bed. It was the middle of the night when he allowed himself to be honest; he was terrified. He was terrified of what Salem could do to him, terrified how she could use him. What if she somehow managed to get information from him? Ozpin didn’t want to betray his friends, of course, he didn’t, but he had to remember that he may not be in his right mind if Salem decided that continuous torture was the way to go.

Ozpin trembled slightly. He didn’t want to be tortured. The fog of pain that envelops your brain, the screams that have to leave your throat… he remembered it all too well and it was enough to make him panic. 

By the morning Ozpin hadn’t gotten any decent sleep at all. 

Salem didn’t even bother to feed him before dragging him to her throne room, and seating him down beside her. 

Only a few minutes later, Tyrian came in dragging a prisoner along behind them. 

Ozpin felt his breath hitch. He knew that bright red her and blue dress. They had graduated from Beacon only a few years ago. Was her name Poppy? 

“Who are you?” Poppy hissed at Salem. 

“A Goddess, here to bring mercy to humanity,” Salem replied. 

Ozpin tried not to snort. 

Poppy’s eyes drifted to him. She looked surprised. “Pr-professor? What are you doing here?” 

“This my dear is my husband,” Salem said, caressing Ozpin under the chin. Ozpin tried to shift away from Salem, but the neck chain was in her lap. 

He wanted to run, to shout, to scream that he wasn’t with her, he hated Salem, he would never choose her side. Maybe Poppy would understand anyway? Surely she would see the chain around his neck and realise he was also a prisoner… Maybe she would escape and alert the police to his location? 

“Take her to the dungeon and play with her,” Salem told Tyrian. 

Tyrian gave a little whoop and dragged Poppy away. 

“What are you going to do to her?” Ozpin asked quietly. 

“Oh, I’m going to let Tyrian torture her a bit- he gets antsy if he doesn’t get to hurt people for a long period of time, and then we’ll kill her,” 

“Why?” was all Ozpin could ask. 

Salem shrugged. “She failed to protect a village and that resulted in Watt’s daughter dying. In return for him joining me, he asked for that girl to be killed,” 

“I don’t suppose there’s anything I could do to make you change your mind?” Ozpin asked, “set her free?” 

“No, there isn’t,” Salem stated. 

…

A little while later Salem dragged Ozpin down to the dungeon. 

Poppy was there, chained to a pillar. For a second, Ozpin was reminded of how Barty had looked… so broken and covered in blood. At least Poppy didn’t have many physical wounds. A few scratches from a knife maybe… 

And she was so young. Ozpin’s heart broke for her. Just out of beacon and already facing this. Her large eyes and red hair even reminded him slightly of Ruby. 

He had to see if he could rescue this girl, do something for her. 

Salem suddenly handed Ozpin a knife. 

“Here’s what you are going to do,” she instructed, “I want you to torture this girl. If you don’t, then I will do much much worse,” 

“What?!” Ozpin whispered, aghast. 

“You have to decide; would it be better for her to have a small amount of torture with the knife, or days of me endlessly burning her with magic until she dies,” 

Ozpin started to tremble. Obviously, objectively, the small amount of torture would be better. But… could he really do it? Hurt a defenceless person? And someone so young, who had once been one of his students? 

He lifted the knife and slowly edged towards the girl. 

Poppy saw the knife and started to cry. “Please don’t…” she whispered. 

“I am so, so, so sorry,” Ozpin replied, trembling as he lifted the blade to her arm. His eyes were blurry with tears. Barely able to watch himself do it, Ozpin gently made a very shallow scratch on her arm. 

Poppy hissed in pain, and Ozpin accidentally dropped the knife. 

“More,” Salem hissed. 

Shakily, Ozpin picked the knife back up again. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ozpin continued, as he made another slit on her arm, this one slightly deeper. 

“Stop… please…” Poppy whispered. 

… 

“Enough,” Salem announced. 

Ozpin dropped the knife, and it clattered on the floor. He collapsed, hiding his face in his hands as he sobbed. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I’m so so so sorry,” 

“I hate you,” Poppy choked through her tears, “how could you!? I looked up to you! I thought you were cool! But you’re… you’re evil! You’re as bad as… as her!” 

Ozpin just continued to sob. Salem grabbed Ozpin’s collar and pulled him up. 

“Come on my dear,” she cooed, “It’s time for lunch,” 

Ozpin just continued to cry and allowed Salem to walk him out of the dungeon. 

… 

Ozpin didn’t eat anything. It was stupid, he hadn’t eaten anything since that sandwich in the café, and he knew that he was ravenous, but he couldn’t bring himself to. After what had just happened, what he had done, Ozpin honestly felt sick. 

“We’ll have to make you do more tomorrow; get you used to it,” Salem commented. 

“Please don’t,” Ozpin whispered, looking at his lap that tears were slowly falling into. “I can’t… I can’t do that again,” 

“And this is exactly why you need to practice,” Salem replied. 

“Please… I’ll do anything. Just let her go. You can tell Watts that you killed her,” 

“Anything?” Salem smirked. “Stay with me forever. Every incarnation, come and find me. Be my true husband again, be loyal,” 

Ozpin stayed silent. They both knew that he wouldn’t do that. Even if he said that he would, Salem wouldn’t let Poppy go because she had no proof that Ozpin would. 

“In any case, I need her around to keep Tyrian happy,” 

“You could let Tyrian torture me instead,” Ozpin spoke before thinking about the implications of that. 

Salem raised one eyebrow. “You would give so much to protect someone you barely know?” 

Ozpin looked away. “She doesn’t deserve to be tortured,” 

“That is beside the point. Torture is merely for the unnecessary and weak. You have made plenty of mistakes; it was your fault our daughters are dead. I should torture you day in and day out. And yet, I love you, and I have mercy on you. That is the only reason you are sitting here beside me,” 

“You killed our children, do not try to pin that on me,” Ozpin hissed. 

Salem slapped him. 

“I may love you, but I will not hesitate to remind you of your place,” 

“What you feel isn’t love,” Ozpin continued, his voice suddenly rising as he stood up and stared at Salem in the eyes, “You became incapable of love the moment you murdered our children! Our children Salem! They were five years old! They had never done anything wrong! And you killed them in cold blood, just because they refused to go to you when you called! Were you even surprised? They saw you try to kill their father!” 

“Enough!” Salem yelled. 

Suddenly Ozpin felt a familiar burning around his neck. His muscles went tight, and after a second of excruciating pain, the world went black. 

...

When Ozpin awoke, he was on the cold cold hard floor in a dark room. 

He sat up, and pulled slightly at his neck chain, and found that it was attached to a peg in the floor. 

“And he finally awakes!”

Ozpin looked up. He could just make out Tyrian, clapping in the gloom. 

“I’ll go and tell her majesty that you are ready, Tyrian continued, bowing low before leaving. 

Tyrian returned a second later, with Salem in toe. 

“Are you ready to be reminded of your place?” Salem asked, crouching down to Ozpin’s face. 

Ozpin averted his gaze. 

Salem’s hands lit up with fire, and she flicked a spark of it onto his bare chest. Ozpin tried not to react. 

Salem then created a flame the size of her hand and flicked it towards Ozpin. It hit his stomach. 

Ozpin’s eyes watered at his grit his teeth. He could smell his own burning flesh. 

He leant back against the wall, trying to get away from Salem. 

“Repeat after me,” she said quietly, “you are worth nothing,” 

Ozpin didn’t. He just closed his eyes. Salem summoned enough flames to engulf his entire torso and pushed them towards him.

Ozpin screamed. He couldn’t breathe, his lungs were burning with the smoke. And his chest… his whole chest and stomach were burning. He could feel his skin dying, screaming out in agony as Salem forced scalding fire with him. 

“Say it,” Salem hissed. 

Ozpin whimpered. 

Salem slapped him, her hand still covered in magic fire. 

Ozpin whimpered again. “I’m… I’m worth nothing…” 

Salem smiled, and the flames died down. “Now was that so hard?” 

Ozpin cried, and tried to breathe normally, almost choking on the smoke in his lungs. 

“Oh come on now, it’s not so bad,” Salem cooed, tilting his chin up slightly. “Remember you are still my husband. That gives you worth,” 

Salem kissed him. 

Ozpin tried to push Salem off, but his arms were too weak and shaky. He tried to back away, but he was already against the wall. 

“Come on -“ Salem sighed, and leant back, “-let’s go and heal up those burns,” 

...

Ozpin sat alone in a hall. Salem had allowed him to heal the worst of his burns with aura, but it still hurt. 

He curled up on himself and sobbed softly into his knees. He was so scared. So so scared. He wanted to run away, to escape, but he knew that he didn’t have the strength. Even if he could get out of the castle, what then? There was no civilisation for miles around. There was no civilisation on this continent. 

“There you are!” Tyrian clapped and walked over to him. 

Ozpin turned his face away. 

“Oh, is the little king-king upset?” Tyrian taunted. “You know, you have no reason to be upset. Our majesty has chosen you to be her husband, so although you were worthless, you now have a purpose,” 

“Leave. Me. Alone,” Ozpin mumbled angrily. 

“Aw, touchy touchy,” Tyrian rolled his eyes. “Just so you know, her Majesty wished to see you in her quarters. You’d better hurry along now!” 

...

“Now, are you ready to tell me about the Atlesian military? Or perhaps you could tell us about Beacon’s defences?” Salem asked Ozpin. 

It was the next morning, and they were sitting in the hall, eating breakfast. 

Ozpin glared at her. He still wasn’t going to reveal anything. He would rather die. 

“Well, I have something that might change your mind,” Salem smiled, dragging him away from the table by the chain on his neck. 

Ozpin looked sadly at his half-eaten sandwich. He was really hungry, and although it was a little stale, the sandwich has been very welcome. 

Salem dragged him back to the dungeon. 

“Either you tell me what I want to know, or torture her more,” she said, indicating Poppy, who was slumped against the wall. 

“What… what exactly do you want to know?” Ozpin sighed. 

“Everything. Let’s start with security codes. Tell me all the ones that you remember,” 

Ozpin cast his eyes downwards. Sorry James, he internally mumbled. 

“403036a-“ Ozpin started, “to get into my office. 5630cfg-“ he went on like that for half an hour, spouting all the codes he could remember. 

Salem smiled. “Thank you, my dear. Now, please torture the girl,”

“What?” Ozpin asked, aghast. 

“I said torture the girl. If you don’t, I’ll kill her,”

“But- you said- if I told you the codes-” 

Salem tutted. “If you hadn't given me the codes you would be torturing her already. This way she gets hurt less. However, I still want you to get used to it,” 

Shakily, Ozpin picked up the knife again and approached Poppy. 

He was struck by how similar she looked to Ruby in the darkness, the bright red of her hair dulled to almost black, the mere outline of her clothes resembling every battle generic battle dress ever, and her petite stature. 

He didn’t want to! He didn’t want to hurt her anymore! How could he? He was a monster. 

Maybe he could try to avoid the pain receptors… knees weren’t particularly sensitive, were they? He was sure he had heard that somewhere. 

Trembling, Ozpin picked up the knife and edged towards Poppy. He closed his eyes for a second. 

“I don’t want to do this,” he whispered. 

Salem tutted. 

Then… Ozpin began. 

Poppy screamed. Oh. She wasn’t unconscious. Well, that wouldn’t last for long… 

… 

“I can’t, I can’t continue,” Ozpin cried. It was half an hour later and there was blood everywhere. 

Trying to avoid sensitive areas meant nothing when there were huge gashes. There was blood and sweat and tears and mud and it pooled on the floor, sitting there like a symbol of all the pain he had caused.

“I’m so sorry,” Ozpin whispered to Poppy, even though she was unconscious, “I’m so so sorry, I know you can never forgive me,” 

He dropped the knife, that clattered into the blood on the floor, and dropped to his knees. This was wrong. Everything about this wrong. 

Ozpin cried out in despair. If only he could save her! He wanted to save her! Poppy was too young to die. Much too young. She was barely more than a student. One of his students. She had trusted him. And yet… and yet… 

Oh, what had he done? 

“When you’ve finished moping, come upstairs an clean up,” Salem instructed, as she left. 

Ozpin sat in front of Poppy, crying. This is was awful. So awful. If only he could help Poppy escape in some way… 

Suddenly, an idea hit him. 

Still sobbing, Ozpin stood up and took the knife, and started to cut the bonds tying Poppy to the pillar. She slumped forward, and Ozpin gently laid her on the floor. Then he gently shook her shoulders. 

Please let her wake up, please let her wake up! 

Poppy stirred with a groan. 

“L-listen,” Ozpin started immediately, “we don’t have much time. You have to escape. I’ll distract Salem for as long as possible, but you need to get off of Crucible. Go back to Beacon, they can protect you there,” 

Poppy opened her eyes, and seeing who it was, tried to push Ozpin away from her. Although she was too weak, Ozpin moved obligingly. 

“Why should I trust you?” she rasped. Her voice was rough and gravely, and Ozpin didn’t want to imagine how sore her throat must be from all the screaming. 

“Because I want to help,” Ozpin whispered, more tears running down his face, “I know that you probably hate me, but please, escape, before they can do worse to you,” 

Poppy grunted. 

“I don’t know if you’ll have another chance,” Ozpin continued,” Salem hardly ever leaves me alone. I won’t be able to free you again,” 

Poppy struggled up. “Then I guess I don’t have a choice,” 

Ozpin offered her a hand to help her stand, but Poppy ignored it. 

“One last thing,” Ozpin said.

“Yes?” 

“When you get to Beacon, please… please tell Qrow, or professor Oobleck or anyone really, where I am,” 

Poppy scrunched up her nose. “Why?”

Ozpin looked away. “I’m rather hoping they might rescue me,” his said quietly. Saying out loud felt stupid. Why would Poppy want to help him get rescued? She hated him! 

“But you’re… you’re her husband! You’ve joined her!” Poppy exclaimed. 

“Do you think this would be around my neck if I was here willingly?” Ozpin asked quietly, gesturing to the collar and chain. 

Poppy scuffed her feet. “I-I guess not-” 

“Now we don’t have much time, you need to go, now!” Ozpin said, marching out of the room. “I’ll go and distract Salem,” 

… 

“I- I have more information to share with you,” Ozpin told Salem, nervously approaching her side of the table. 

“Finally come around have you?” she asked, voice sickly sweet. 

Ozpin nodded and sat beside her. He looked at his hands and tried to imagine how he would feel if he was really about to betray his friends. Method acting. 

“There is a secret base,” he began, “on the outskirts of Vale, in the mountains,” 

Salem smiled, “do tell me more,” 

“It’s a testing ground for new weapons,” Ozpin invented, “They are developing armour that is resistant to magic,” 

“How interesting,” Salem smiled. “And you are telling me this because?” 

“I don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” Ozpin stated, “The fewer people get hurt, the more I’ll tell you,” 

“Yes, yes, but why are you telling me right now?” 

Ozpin screwed up his nose. He needed a reason. Salem was already suspicious. He couldn’t let her know about how he helped Poppy escape. 

“I… err… I’ve realised that-“ Ozpin suddenly knew what he had to say. He swallowed in displeasure. He never wanted these words to leave his mouth. “I understand that you have been merciful to me,” he managed to force out. Goodness, he hoped he wouldn’t accidentally start to believe that. It was so wrong. So wrong. 

Salem smirked. “I’m glad to see that you’ve come to your senses,”


	5. Nowhere to be found

It had been years since he was last here, Bartholomew thought absentmindedly. Garthram Bar. Not the nicest place in Vale. 

But still, if Ozpin had been kidnapped by some gang holding him for ransom, then Zam would probably know about it. Zam was an old friend, of Bartholomew’s. They had grown up together, and although they didn’t speak much these days, Bartholomew hoped his punk blond friend would help him out. 

“You see him yet?” Qrow asked, almost shouting over the deafeningly loud metal music. 

They were sitting in a small booth at the back of the bar. Bartholomew swept the room again. It was hard to make people out in the dim light, but Bartholomew was sure he would recognise Zam instantaneously. 

“He’ll be here,” Bartholomew half yelled back, “It’s a Friday night. He’s been coming here every week since we were kids,” 

Suddenly, at the other end of the room, Bartholomew spotted a tuft on blond hair and a black leather jacket. Ahah! 

Bartholomew leapt up and darted over to Zam. 

“Bart!?” Zam exclaimed in surprise. He looked the same as ever. Tattoos around his neck, way too much jewellery and eyeliner that would make any girl jealous. 

Did I really use to dress like that too? Bartholomew thought to himself before shaking his head. He stared at Zam for another moment. He hadn’t considered how awkward this meeting was going to be. 

“So, can I buy you a drink?” Zam asked, placing a hand on Bartholomew’s shoulder. 

“Sure- uh- I mean no!” Bartholomew quickly corrected himself, “umm, can we talk? I have a table at the back,” 

“Finally decided you want a piece of me?” Zam asked, winking. 

Bartholomew blushed profusely. “NO! I mean, no thanks,” 

He lead Zam to the table at the back and sat down. Zam sat down beside him, and Bartholomew quickly shifted away from him. 

Zam looked hurt. “Aww come on, you used to love physical… affection,” 

“Not now,” Bartholomew seethed through his teeth. 

Qrow raised his eyebrows. “You two used to be a couple?” 

Zam nodded. “And who’s this?”

“A colleague,” Bartholomew supplied dully.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Zam asked. 

“A friend of ours is missing. Barty says that you’ll know if any local gangs have taken him,” Qrow explained. 

Zam winked at Bartholomew. “Barty is it?” 

“Just answer the question!” Bartholomew exclaimed, hiding his face in his hands. 

Zam thought for a moment. “Well Coal and his lot are in jail thanks to that stunt they pulled last autumn, so it’s not them. Caleb and Diego recently got into trouble for drug dealing so they are probably gonna lay low for a while- that’s not their style anyway- And the white fang are stealing weapons and dust, not people” 

“You sure about that?” Qrow asked. 

Zam nodded. “Positive- I sneak in there regularly to get the dust they steal from the garage back,” 

“He’s a mechanic,” Bartholomew supplied. 

“If I hear anything I’ll call you,” Zam offered, “What’s your friend’s name?” 

Bartholomew and Qrow glanced at each other and nodded. “Ozpin,” they said simultaneously. 

Zam raised his eyebrows. “The headmaster? Your old teammate?” 

Bartholomew nodded again. 

Zam whistled. “It must be someone mighty powerful to have taken your friend,” 

“We know,” Bartholomew replied. 

They sat there in silence for a few moments. 

“So what does he have that I don’t?” Zam said, gesturing to Qrow, “I know I’m not a huntsman, but I’ve got abs. I can last all night-”

“Shut up!” Bartholomew interjected, face as red as a tomato, “It’s not like that! We’re just working together!” 

“Sure you are,” Zam replied, then he turned to Qrow, “You two hooked up yet? I could never get Bart to hook up with me-” 

Qrow spat out his drink. “The hell? Ew! I wouldn’t date him if you paid me! No offense-” 

“None taken,” Bartholomew mumbled from behind his hands, “Why did I think coming here was a good idea?” 

Zam took a deep breath. “Dude, I’m sorry, I’m just messin’ with ya. Come on, I’ll walk you two back to town to make sure you don’t get into any trouble,” 

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Qrow replied, gesturing to his sword on his back. 

Zam shrugged and lead the way out of the bar. 

…

Once they were back on the main street, Zam took Bartholomew aside.

“You doing okay mate?” Zam asked, “For real?” 

Bartholomew swallowed. “I’m- I will be fine,” 

Zam sighed. “Look I read the news okay? And I just wanted to say… back when we were together, if I was ever too pushy or tried to make you do something you didn’t want to, then I’m sorry,” 

Bartholomew sighed. “It’s okay- that’s why we broke up isn’t it? I understand that you can’t live without-” he coughed “sex. And I wasn’t- I just wasn’t ready for that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be…” He wrapped an arm around his middle, “Maybe one day, if I get married…” 

Zam clapped a hand on his shoulder. “But we’re still friends, right? Despite everything?” 

Bartholomew nodded. “Of course we’re still friends,” 

Zam beamed. “Great!” He turned to leave, “See you around, lil’ Oobleck!” 

“I’m not little anymore!” Bartholomew called back. 

… 

When Bartholomew got back to his room at Beacon, he had a panic attack. 

Dang it, dang it, dang it, dang it! Where was Ozpin? He wanted Ozpin back! 

Tears slid down his face as he curled up in a corner by his bed. 

That evening hadn’t gone much worse than Bartholomew had been anticipating… But they didn’t have any leads! The people who had kidnapped Ozpin could be doing anything to him! 

Bartholomew shook as he remembered what had happened to him only a few months ago. Oz… they could be torturing him. His best friend could be being tortured right at this second and Bartholomew couldn’t do anything about it! 

The clock in Bartholomew’s living room struck eleven. Ah. He really should go to bed. He had school- well no - he had work tomorrow. Thankfully someone was covering his classes so Bartholomew had more free time to search for Ozpin. It was a good thing he wasn’t trying to teach at the moment… He was in completely the wrong state of mind.


	6. Cruelty

That evening, Salem rewarded Ozpin with a proper dinner. Pork, vegetables, roasted potatoes… the works. 

Ozpin dug into it ravenously. His stomach was like a windmill that hadn’t been stocked up with grain. Ravenous, painful, and empty. It was actually it a little sickening, but Ozpin didn’t care. He wanted to get his strength up, and it smelled so good. 

“Isn’t that better?” Salem cooed. “See how much good it does you to do as I say?” 

Ozpin wished that he didn’t agree. Just following Salem’s orders quietly always seemed to turn out better in the long run. He hated it though. If he started being complacent, then he was giving Salem power over him. She would slowly break him; brainwash him; until he was the mere shell of a man. Still, this time he had secretly been defying her, by causing a distraction so that Poppy could escape. So it was okay. It didn’t count. Right? 

“Although of course, if you hadn’t been trying to give Poppy a chance to escape, I would be a lot happier,” Salem announced. 

Ozpin froze. Salem knew. She knew what he had done. 

Salem smiled. “Oh don’t worry, she was in no fit state to travel. And we would have killed her eventually. By letting her die you’ve spared her weeks of torture,” 

“She’s dead?” Ozpin whispered. Right then, he should be worrying about himself. Who knew what Salem would do now she knew he had been distracting her. He was in for a world of pain. But he couldn’t focus on that. All he could think about was Poppy. Poppy was dead. “How did she die?” 

Salem put her head on one side as if contemplating. “A blade through the back… it probably broke her spine, instantly paralysing her. She would have died of blood loss the following minutes if she wasn’t already dead,” 

Ozpin nodded grimly and stared into his lap. Poppy was dead. He couldn’t save her. He had tried so hard, but he couldn’t save her. Even though Poppy had taken that step to trust him at the end… after all, he’d done to her… and now she was dead. Because of him. 

Guilt welled up in Ozpin and pooled out of his eyes. He took a deep breath to calm himself, but could not stop the tears from flowing. He didn’t care. 

“Still, she gave you one last gift, you should be grateful,” Salem said sweetly. 

“What?” 

“Your dinner of course- it isn’t often we get fresh meat around here,” 

Ozpin looked horrified down at his plate. 

“Oh, did you think it was Pork?” Salem taunted, “I suppose Pork does taste quite similar to human flesh…”

Ozpin threw up.

… 

Ozpin sat curled up outside the door to Salem’s room, shivering. He felt awful. Because he’d regurgitated his dinner, he the dull ache in his stomach had returned. How long could he survive on next to no food? 

He clutched at his hair, as he sobbed. Poppy was dead, Poppy was dead, and he had... eaten… Just thinking about it made more bile rise in his throat. It was horrific. How many other people had Salem… Ozpin didn’t know that she was so into cannibalism. Although Salem herself hadn’t eaten any of the dinner. She might just be doing it as some form of psychological torture. Maybe she didn’t normally eat people. Because that was disgusting. And terrifying. 

Tyrian walked into the hallway and cackled. “Enjoyed your dinner did you?” 

He knew. Of course Tyrian knew. Tyrian had probably eaten some himself. It’s the sort of sick thing he would do. 

“Why-“ Ozpin choked out, “how can be so- why don’t you care?” 

Tyrian looked surprised. “Of course I care,” he said, putting a hand to his chest, “Trust me when I say, I care very very much,” 

“Then how can you bare to inflict so much pain?” Ozpin asked, “I’ve seen what you’re capable of,” 

Tyrian thought for a moment. “It’s exciting,” he settled on, “Knowing I’m causing so much pain,” he giggled and licked his lips, “I love it,” 

Ozpin shook his head. “but… but you wouldn’t want someone to do that to you?” 

Tyrian giggled. “It’s not that bad. Besides, they’re not going to,” 

“If you treat people horribly then you give them no reason to treat you with kindness,” Ozpin mumbled, “at the very least you could be kind to others to protect yourself,” 

Tyrian snorted. “Her Majesty is right, you really are stupid,” he went serious for a moment, “do you honestly think anyone is going to take more than one look at me before they respond with hate?” 

Ozpin looked away. “You present yourself as a monster, and therefore people treat you like one,” 

“Is that how you see me? Tyrian asked, crouching in front of Ozpin and lifting his chin in his hand, “Then I suggest you take a look in the mirror,” 

Ozpin shoved him away weakly. “I’m nothing like you, I’m not, I swear I’m not,” 

“The more you deny it the more it sounds like you believe it,” Tyrian said in a sing-songy voice, standing up again, “Face it, you like the taste of human flesh,” 

Ozpin wretched. 

… 

“So my dear,” Salem said, resting a chin on her hand, “I’ve discovered that the so-called, base in the mountains, is a complete lie,” 

Ozpin swallowed. 

“And here I was thinking you’d be willing to give valuable information at the very least to help out a friend,” 

Ozpin still stayed silent and concentrated on looking at his hands in his lap. 

“Now, why don’t you tell me some actual real information?” Salem asked. 

“I’ll…” Ozpin mumbled, “I’ll… I’ll never betray my friends,” 

Salem slapped him. 

Ozpin took the blow and looked away. Eyes watering with the sting. 

“But you’ve already betrayed them,” Salem taunted, “Any more information isn’t going to make any difference, I just want to hear you say it. To know that you are truly on my side,” 

“already… betrayed them?” 

“Of course, you don’t remember. You’ve probably locked the memory away for your own sanity,” 

Ozpin tried to block out Salem’s words. She was manipulating him, he knew. Tying to make him believe that he had already betrayed his friends. He hadn’t. He wouldn’t. He could never do that. 

Suddenly, Salem yanked on the chain and pulled Ozpin into an upright position. “I have to show you something,” she announced. 

She dragged Ozpin out of the room, and into a hallway. Ozpin was stumbling, trying to keep up. He felt weak, and everything ached. 

Then Salem opened a side door and threw Ozpin in. Ozpin stumbled into the dark room and heard the “click!” of the lock behind him. 

…

 

A few hours later, Ozpin heard Salem return. She seemed to be talking to someone, although he couldn’t hear what they were saying. 

The door opened… and suddenly, Ozpin didn’t know what was happening. 

He was… still sitting in the floor, but in the place of cold hard stone was smooth concrete. Looking up, he saw Beacon… burning. There was fire everywhere, and the sky was as red as blood. People were streaming out of the school, coughing and screaming. There were Grimm appearing on all sides, attacking the students who didn’t even have any weapons. 

Approaching him, Ozpin saw his friends. He tried to stand up, to cry out and warn them about the Grimm. But he couldn’t. The chain held him down and he seemed to have lost his voice. 

He watched, horrified, as his friends fell, one by one. 

He crawled towards them, pulling the chain as far as it would go. 

There was a shout from the left, and Ozpin saw Ironwood smash in the head of a Grimm that had just attacked Glynda… and stuck its fangs through her side. 

“This is all your fault!” Ironwood yelled, holding Glynda’s limp body. Due to his moment of distraction, a Nevermore was able to creep up on Ironwood and bite his head off. 

Qrow transformed into a bird to try and escape the ruckus, but falling burning debris hit him. He landed beside Ozpin. Ozpin picked up the small bird in his hands cradling it.

“How could you?” the bird choked, “we trusted you,” it then fell limp. 

Ozpin cradled the dead Crow to his chest, tears running down his face. 

There were more screams all around. Ozpin hardly dared look up, but he found he was compelled to. 

Through his tears, he saw Barty dragging a limp Port out of the debris. A Nevermore was flying above them, however, and crashed into a pillar, making it fall and crush both of them. 

“See what you have helped me achieve,” Salem said, suddenly appearing in the middle of the flames. “Thanks to you, Beacon burns,” 

“No…” Ozpin whispered, “this isn’t real, this isn’t real! It must be some sort of vision!” 

Salem slapped him across the face. The vision faded, and Ozpin was back in his cell, Salem still crouching in front of him. 

There was someone in the doorway, panting. 

“Go,” Salem hissed at them. 

With an “of course, your grace” the figure left. 

“That was what really happened,” Salem hissed, “You have locked the memory away because you are so weak,” 

Ozpin shook his head, trying to breathe through his sobs. “That’s not, that’s not true! I- I don’t believe you!” he managed. 

Salem tutted. “Yet I would never lie to you dear,” 

Her hand glowed with magic fire. 

“Tell me you believe it, now I’ve shown you, tell me you remember,” 

Ozpin shook his head. “It’s not real,” he sobbed, “It’s- it’s not real,” 

Fire engulfed him. Searing heat, burning his whole body. 

Ozpin gasped, trying to take in a breath. All he got was a lungful of smoke. He coughed choking, tears still running down his face. He wanted to scream, to get the fire off but he was too weak, too tired. 

The fire momentarily stopped, and Ozpin lay on the floor, coughing up smoke and trying to get oxygen into his lungs. 

The world seemed to dim around him, and Ozpin knew that if he wasn’t coughing so much he would be hyperventilating. His heart was already thudding in his chest at an incredible pace, but now he could hear the rush of blood in his ears. Was this it? Was he going to die, burning to death again? Who knew how long it would take for him to re-incarnate this time around? He probably wouldn’t see any of his friends ever again- if they were even alive that was… 

“Now, are you ready to admit the truth?” Salem asked.

Ozpin glared up at her. “Never,” he croaked. 

Salem tutted and lit her hand again. “We’ll see about that,” 

The world went black in a fog of smoke and pain. 

… 

When Ozpin awoke, he was lying on Salem’s bed. Everything hurt. Merely allowing his back to touch the cloak and then bedclothes beneath him was agony. 

Tyrian walked in and placed a glass of water beside him. 

“Getting yourself hurt again I see,” Tyrian snorted. 

“Not… my… fault…” Ozpin rasped. Ow. His throat was unbelievably dry. 

He struggled to sit up and hastily grabbed the glass of water. 

Ow! He almost dropped in surprise. The inside of his hands screamed in protest as they came into contact with the glass. As did his muscles as he hastily brought the glass to his chapped lips to take a drink. 

“I would let you suffer,” Tyrian drawled once Ozpin had put the glass back down, “but her majesty once you to be able to survive the next round of flames,” 

Ozpin internally groaned. Of course. It wasn’t over yet. 

Tyrian fiddled with the collar controller, and suddenly Ozpin felt the cool relief of his aura flood him. It was bliss, rushing to heal the damaged skin and repair his aching muscles. 

“I've set it to give you half an hour of aura,” Tyrian said, leaving the room, “don’t waste it,”

Ozpin lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes. He would try and get some sleep whilst his aura repaired his body as best he could. 

He closed his eyes and tried to remember a nice memory. Playing with his mother; when he was only a child. That had been before he became Ozpin in this life. Thinking of his mother made his chest pang with loss, but at least it was easier than thinking about his friends. He knew his mother was dead, there was no question about it. His friends, however… Had that truly been only a vision? Salem said it was real, but he didn’t trust her any further than he could throw a dingbat. Which wasn’t very far, considering the fact that a dingbat would land and scuttle straight back to you. 

The question was, were his friends alive? 

No. He wasn’t thinking about that right now. He was trying to rest to let his aura have the maximum chance at healing all his burns. 

He was going to think of his mother and remember when she had taught him how to play chess. That had been fun; he was only eight at the time. Even armed with a millennium of knowledge on the game, Ozpin still found it fun. He’d happily play anyone why who was willing. 

As he tried to recall the first moves of his first ever chess match, Ozpin drifted off to sleep. 

…


	7. Dead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh - this hurt to write. Ironically I think it hurt the most out of everything in this fic.

One look at General Ironwood’s face was all it took for Bartholomew to know that something was dreadfully wrong. He didn’t even know General Ironwood that well, but his whole demeanour and grim expression screamed: “Something terrible has happened,”. 

“Professor Oobleck,” Ironwood inclined his head as he stepped into Oobleck’s office. 

“General Ironwood,” Bartholomew stood up to greet him, “And it’s Doctor Oobleck,” 

“Right,” Ironwood mumbled. Then he straightened himself. “Since this was your mission, and he was your team-mate, it seems only right that you should be the first to know…” 

Bartholomew took a deep breath. No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening. He knew what Ironwood was about to say. 

“...To know that Ozpin is dead,” 

The world seemed to slow. Bartholomew felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. He wanted to scream, to cry, to do something to release the agony in his chest, but he just stood there. Numb. How could this even be real? 

“We will start looking for his next incarnation immediately of course,” Ironwood supplied, “Although it could take years for him to reincarnate,” 

Bartholomew nodded glumly. “How do you know that he’s… dead?” 

“We found his skeleton... Completely burned. In his what remained of his clothes,” Ironwood said quietly. 

Bartholomew nodded. “Right,” 

…

As soon as Ironwood left the room, Bartholomew collapsed onto the floor. His breath caught in his throat. Ozpin was dead. Ozpin was dead! 

Tears flooded his vision. Ozpin was dead. It couldn’t… it couldn’t be real? Surely? Ozpin… Ozpin… 

Bartholomew broke into sobs. They hadn’t made it! They hadn’t saved him in time! Why? How? If only- 

His thoughts weren’t even coherent. He was too upset. He couldn’t- all he could do was cry his heart out. 

…

A few hours later Port knocked on Bartholomew’s door. Bartholomew was in his living room, curled up on the end of the sofa, still crying. 

“I heard the news,” Port said quietly, sitting down next to Bartholomew, and placing an arm around him, “I’m so sorry,” 

Bartholomew bristled at the touch but quickly relaxed into it. He tried to acknowledge Port but all he could manage was a nod and a choking sound. Ozpin was gone. Ozpin was gone forever! He was never going to see him again! Of course, Ozpin would reincarnate… That really didn’t make it hurt less. He might see him again, but it would be years, and in any case, it wasn’t the same. It wouldn’t be his Ozpin. It felt like a piece of his soul had been ripped out. And it was never coming back! 

Gone were the late night's talks over hot chocolate, the oh so special hugs, the intense games of chess… A whole part of his life was gone! 

Port just sat there, unsure of what to do, offering his silent support. 

…

It was odd, Bartholomew contemplated that evening, whilst staring at his bedroom ceiling. He was exhausted and felt like he had completely run out of tears. 

Why had there been a skeleton with no flesh? Ironwood had said that it was all burnt… But then why hadn’t the clothes been completely burnt up as well? It didn’t make any sense. 

Was it possible… was it just possible that it was a decoy? To make them stop looking for Ozpin? That would mean… That would that Ozpin was alive. Ozpin could be alive! 

Bartholomew barely let himself think the thought. But now he had imagined it… Ozpin must be alive! He must be! Surely… surely… 

He needed him to be. Bartholomew needed Ozpin to be alive.

He looked over at a note he had written barely an hour ago. If Ozpin was alive… then Bartholomew had to find him. He couldn’t give up yet! 

It’s not like he was brave enough to give up in any case. Shuddering at the thought, Bartholomew sat up and dialled Qrow’s number. It may be 3 o'clock in the morning, but he didn’t care. He needed to talk to Qrow. To convince him that Ozpin might be alive. They couldn’t stop looking yet… 

...


	8. Dead men can’t die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **ALL THE TWs APPLY TO THIS CHAPTER!**

Ozpin was roughly awoken by Salem pushing him onto the floor. 

“Wake up my dear, we have work to do,” Salem instructed. 

Ozpin groaned. Although he could immediately tell that his aura was being blocked again by the collar, he felt a lot better. His muscles were only slightly stiff, and his skin no longer hurt to touch, even if it still felt unpleasantly warm. 

His stomach still felt like it was knot though. It was a strange mixture of knowing he needed food, but feeling so nauseous that he doubted he could eat any if it was given to him. 

Salem wasted no time in dragging him up by the chain and pulling him out of the room and to the small empty one. 

She left him in there for a few minutes, before returning with the other person who stayed in the shadows out of sight. 

And then he was back… Beacon was burning. The sky a blood red. People screaming. Grimm everywhere. 

Everything was the same. Ozpin tried to heave on the chain; if only he could get closer to his friends, communicate with them, warn them… 

It was no use. As Glynda and Ironwood fought a Beowulf, Ozpin tried to call out to them. To warn them of Glynda’s impending fate, and of the Nevermore that would soon have James’ head. Alas, his voice was gone. Even as Ozpin tried to shout, all that left his mouth was a whisper. 

“Please,” he uttered, “be careful,” 

James and Glynda didn’t hear him. Just as before, Glynda raised an arm to stop a Block of cement falling on James, and left herself open to an attack from the Beowulf. Just as before James lost focus as he cradled Glynda’s limp body. 

“We trusted you! How could you let is down so?” James yelled over at Ozpin. 

Ozpin tried to point at the nevermore, to gesture for James to look behind him, but it was too late. 

The Nevermore pounced on its grief-stricken prey and tore James’s head off in its beak. 

Ozpin momentarily closed his eyes, trying to unsee all of the blood. 

There was a new scream this time. Qrow was crushed under a boulder before being able to turn into a bird. 

“Oz, help me pull Port out of the rubble!” Barty yelled. 

Ozpin tried to yell back that he couldn’t, that he was trapped, but still al that left his mouth was a whisper immediately lost to the surrounding noise. 

The pillar fell, only this time Barty tried to dodge, and a part of knocked him to the floor. He pushed himself onto all fours, and crawled towards Oz, trying to get away from the burning school. 

Ozpin knelt down and reached out to Barty. 

“Why won’t you help us?” Barty asked as he collapsed from lack of energy. He was just too far away for Ozpin to be able to reach his hand. 

“Why- why did you join her?” Barty asked, tears trickling down his face, “you were supposed to help us…” his voice faded as he passed out on the floor. 

Ozpin felt tears well up in his own eyes, and he allowed himself to cry. This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t real. It never happened. He was sure of it. Pretty sure… 

The vision faded, and Ozpin was left curled up on himself in the centre of the room, choking down tears. 

Once again, Salem dismissed the other person and walked up to Ozpin, before sitting in front of him. 

“Do you believe me now, my dear?” she asked. “Do you understand? Thanks to your help we were able to destroy Beacon, remember?” 

Ozpin couldn’t help but shake his head. This couldn’t be real! It simply couldn’t! 

Salem sighed. Her hands glowed with magic once again. “Last chance- Do you believe that you helped destroy Beacon?” 

Ozpin shook his head. “I would never- It’s not real! It’s not real!” 

Salem made the fire in her hands into a burning wip. She slapped it across Ozpin’s back. 

Ozpin hissed in pain. Salem did it again. Ozpin felt his eyes water. The burning across his back was agony. As Salem hit him a third time, Ozpin screamed. 

“Tell me you believe me,” Salem hissed. 

Ozpin whimpered. 

Salem hit him again. “Tell me that you understand me,” 

There was so much pain. Surely if he just pretended to agree with Salem the pain would stop? Surely? He didn’t actually have to believe what he said. He could just say the words and the pain would stop. Yes, he would do that, He couldn't stand the pain any longer. 

“I believe you,” Ozpin whispered. 

Salem stopped and smiled. “That is what I wanted to hear “ she smirked. 

… 

Ozpin thought that that would be it. That once Salem thought he believed the vision, he wouldn’t have to watch it anymore. He was wrong. 

The very next day Salem dragged him back into the small bare room that was now much too familiar. The vision played again, with only a few minor differences. This time Ozpin immediately pretended to believe it. He was too tired to go through the agony he knew Salem would put him through again. 

They repeated this the following day, and the one after that, and the one after that. 

Bit by bit, Ozpin knew his resolve was crumbling. Why would Salem show it to him this many times if it wasn’t true? And he could remember so many different variations… what if one of those wasn’t a vision but had actually happened?

That could only mean one thing. His friends were dead. There was no rescue coming. 

It was his fault. He was here with Salem, wasn’t he? He must have revealed something that tipped Salem off. Maybe she had used the codes he had given her to get into Beacon and burn it down? 

And he had been helpless. Helpless to save his friends. He had failed. How much of humanity had Salem slaughtered by now? 

If only he wasn’t so weak. If only he hadn’t revealed the codes… 

He glanced around Salem’s bedroom, where he lay. There was a knife on her bedside table. 

He rolled over and grabbed it. 

Then he rolled up his sleeve. It was stupid. He shouldn’t make himself any weaker… but he deserved this. It was his fault. All his fault. 

He made a small scratch just above his elbow and took a sharp intake of breath. It has been so long, so so long, since he had last allowed himself to do this. Never in this lifetime in fact, but he could remember previous incarnations who were upset enough. 

He made another small scratch. It really didn’t hurt that much, when he was in control. Control. How Ozpin wished he could be in control of his own life again. At least he could control this.  
He could control the pain. 

He felt a twinge of guilt as he put the knife down. He had promised someone not to do this again. But that had been a long time ago, and they were probably long since dead. 

The door handle turned. 

Ozpin quickly tried to pull his sleeve over his arm, but it was too late. 

Salem was in the room. 

“What’s that?” she asked, walking up next to him. 

Ozpin looked away as Salem grabbed his arm, and yanked up the sleeve. 

“Oh, good” she stated, “you’ve finally realised your worth,” 

Ozpin said nothing. 

Salem dragged him up into a sitting position. Then she used her magic to summon the knife from the table. 

“Do more,” Salem hissed, “prove your loyalty to me,” 

Ozpin didn’t touch the knife. He was not loyal to her. He would never be. 

Salem’s other hand lit with fire. “Do it or I shall do worse,”

Ozpin sighed and picked up the knife. There was no use in letting her torture him more. He wasn’t claiming his loyalty, he was doing his best to survive. Yes, that’s right, he was choosing the option with less pain. 

…

By the time he was done, there was blood dripping from both his arms. None of the cuts were particularly deep though, and Ozpin knew how to avoid arteries and veins. 

He lay back on the bed, shaking and trying to ignore the pain. And the shame. He had done this. To himself. He had wanted control but ultimately he had none. What would his friends think? 

His friends…. If they hadn’t already hated him for causing their deaths then they surely would now. 

He would be better of dead.

Then he would just reincarnate… But he... he wouldn’t be in Salem’s clutches anymore. Although he would have to get to know a new host. And inflict the burden of his memories on them… he didn’t want to do that. 

But surely anything was better than this? Surely? 

… 

After that Ozpin couldn’t get the thought out of his head. Anything was better than this. Committing suicide would be better than this. 

At the end of the day, those were his two options: live with Salem until he died, being burned and tortured, or commit suicide. Although even thinking the word suicide made dread build up in his gut, it seemed like his only way out. Was it really worth it? Yes, yes it was. 

His next problem was how to commit suicide. He was hardly ever left alone, and when he was he was usually chained up and didn’t have anything to help him at his disposal. 

His first thought was that maybe he could somehow use his semblance. Theoretically, he should be able to use his semblance when Salem allowed him to use aura after one of her torture sessions. 

His Semblance would create a shield. Could air get through the shield? Dying of oxygen deprivation didn’t seem too bad. The main problem with this was that he wasn’t sure his shield even blocked air, and even if it did it would fall as soon as he fell unconscious. It probably wouldn’t kill him. 

His next thought was to anger Tyrian enough that Tyian would kill him. This soon proved impossible though, as Tyrian would merely laugh and hit him. 

He did briefly consider jumping off of the top of the castle. But due to the fact he’d probably just break his legs and spine, he decided it was too risky.

He finally came up with a plan one day when Salem dragged him out of her castle to the edge of the black pools that Ozpin had assumed were oil. 

Grimm were crawling out of them. So not oil then. 

A few small droplets fell from the fur of an Ursa that was shaking itself and burned Ozpin’s skin when they landed on him. Once it had stopped burning though, Ozpin noticed that where his skin had touched the substance… it was dead. 

In addition to this, these pools seemed to be how Salem disposed of the castle waste. They dumped bones, apple cores, and even sewage into the pools and it all seemed to instantaneously disappear as it hit the surface. 

Maybe this was his way out. 

A few days later, Ozpin saw his chance. 

Salem left him alone in a hallway whilst she dealt with some of her underlings. Ozpin didn’t know the details and didn’t care. 

After a bit of fiddling, he managed to un-attach the chain from where Salem had tied it to a pillar. 

Ozpin slowly stumbled towards the window, which luckily was broken, and climbed out. Goodness, he was weak. He could barely walk on his own.

Even if he had wanted to escape; he couldn’t. Not only would Salem find him within a day, but there was also nothing to eat and no water to drink here on Crucible. Salem must import all her food. And there was no way off of Crucible. And where would Ozpin even go? His friends were dead. 

It only took a few minutes to get down to the edge of the pool. 

Ozpin sat on the bank and considered this decision for a second. He was dreading it really. He was going to reincarnate again. Force of all these memories onto someone… 

And dying. Dying was painful. Could he really bring himself to jump into the pool? Just a few droplets had burnt like hell. Being completely submerged in it… This was going to hurt. A lot. Still, it wouldn’t last for long, right? 

Ozpin stood up shakily and took a step towards the pool. 

He felt tears run down his cheeks. He didn’t want to do this, but he didn’t have any other choice. 

He closed his eyes and prepared to jump. 

Suddenly there was an enraged cry on his left. 

Ozpin’s eyes flew open, and he looked over to see Salem running towards him. 

Salem shot out a hand, and suddenly Ozpin was jerked into the air and flying towards her. 

Oh. Dang, it. 

“What do you think you are doing?!” Salem seethed, plonking Ozpin down on the ground in front of her. 

Ozpin didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look up to meet her eyes. He couldn’t. 

He was angry that he’d hesitated. If only he had jumped sooner then this would all be over. 

A very small, tiny part of him was relieved though. He really didn’t want to die- even if it was a better option than living with Salem. 

“I can’t believe you,” Salem seethed. “After all, I’ve done for you-you would rather die?” 

Ozpin remained silent. 

Salem sighed. “Then I will have to prove to you your worth. On your own you are useless, but when I choose I can make you as valuable as a diamond,” 

Salem hauled on the chain and forced Ozpin to stand up. She then dragged him back to the castle. 

They walked through the main hall, out the back into the smaller halls, and up a staircase. Salem forced Ozpin into her room and onto the bed. Then she attached the chain to the headboard of the bed. 

“Take off the robe,” Salem instructed. 

… 

Once Salem was done, Ozpin just lay there, tears trickling down his face. He turned away from Salem who was now sleeping. 

He couldn’t bear to look at her. 

Of course, he had known that it would happen eventually. Salem had raped him before and would do so again. It’s just something she loved to do. And something he always seemed powerless to stop. 

Ozpin choked back tears. He felt sick. Throwing up in Salem’s bed wouldn't earn him any favours though. Better to try and push through it. 

…

After that Ozpin felt broken. He just sort of gave up. He didn’t talk and he did exactly as Salem asked. 

Despite this Salem still raped him continuously. She seemed to think it would help his self-confidence. It really didn’t. 

If anything, Ozpin felt truly worthless. He welcomed the pain of torture. He felt like he deserved it.


	9. Hope is but a single spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is honestly my favourite chapter. It's certainly the first one that I imagined!

“He’s not dead!” Qrow yelled, slamming his fist into the desk. “He- he can’t be,” 

“Calm down,” Bartholomew told him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, 

“He-he can’t be dead,” Qrow choked, sniffing angrily, “I don’t- I won’t believe it!”

“I don’t either,” Bartholomew said quietly, “I know he’s still alive,” 

“It’s just James is a big headed idiot who isn’t willing to have a little faith- They didn’t even find a proper body! He’s not dead!” 

“I agree,” Bartholomew repeated, wiping his own eyes on the sleeve of his shirt, “He’s not dead. It’s probably a trick to make us think that he’s dead,” 

Qrow looked up and met Bartholomew’s eyes. “We have to save him,” 

“We will,” Bartholomew reassured him, “we will,” Then he hugged Qrow. 

Usually, Qrow would have pulled away from a hug, but now… when they had just lost… when they could lose a friend? No. He hugged Bartholomew back. 

… 

Bartholomew and Qrow sat sprawled on the floor of Bartholomew’s room, looking at countless maps and books. 

“I think we can rule out Vale,” Bartholomew stated, “We’ve checked all the known criminal gang centres, and we still haven’t found that girl, which suggests that they’re not in the city,” 

“Assuming the girl even has anything to do with Ozpin’s disappearance,” Qrow added. 

“Right- Well we can certainly rule out Atlas- he would have been found by now if he was there,” 

Qrow nodded. “Okay, that’s true

“So that just leaves… the rest of the world…” 

They both stared at the map. 

Qrow’s scroll beeped. He checked it. “I’ve got a report of all the recent Grimm activity,” 

Bartholomew nodded. “Good, project it onto the map- that way we can see if there any new hot spots,” 

Qrow projected it onto the map. 

“Why is Crucible blank?” Bartholomew asked. 

“After what happened… with you, we’ve decided it’s too dangerous to send huntsmen there,” 

Bartholomew thought for a moment. “You don’t suppose, Salem…?” 

“What makes you think that?” Qrow asked. 

“Well we don’t have any other leads, and we both know that Salem hates Ozpin…” 

“But that’s still quite a leap in logic,” 

“But it wouldn’t hurt to look,” Bartholomew argued. 

“What if we get caught?” 

“If we could rescue Oz then isn’t it worth the risk?” 

“I can’t believe that you, of all people, are suggesting we got to Crucible,” 

“Well do you have a better idea?!” Bartholomew burst out. “Because I don’t. And I- I just want my friend back. No matter the cost. I’d even risk being captured again if it means that Ozpin even has a slight extra chance of being rescued,” 

“Ozpin wouldn’t agree with that,” Qrow argued.

“Yes but Ozpin is a self-sacrificing idiot. Besides, we both know how much he hates dying and reincarnating- we- we need to find him before that happens,” 

“Okay,” Qrow conceded, “we’ll go,” 

… 

“Almost there,” Qrow muttered. He was driving the airship they were in, to Crucible. 

Bartholomew couldn’t help but fidget. The amount of time it took to get to Crucible was two days. What if they were too late? Assuming Ozpin was even there at all. 

Eventually, Crucible was in sight.

“I’ll land on the beach, so we can hide the airship in a cave. Then we can walk up to the castle,” Qrow muttered. 

“Where actually is the castle?” Bartholomew asked. 

“Over the hill, by some giant pools of black tar” 

Half an hour later they had parked the airship in a cave, and they started to make their way through the forest to Salem’s castle. 

They met a few Grimm on the way, but it was no trouble for two pro-huntsmen. 

“Remember, we’re just here to observe and see if Ozpin is here,” Qrow stated. 

Bartholomew nodded. “I know; we mustn’t be seen,” 

Eventually, they reached the top of the hill and saw the castle. 

Bartholomew shivered, remembering the last time he had been there. Goodness, he hoped Ozpin wasn’t in the same state he had been in. 

“You okay?” Qrow asked quietly. 

Bartholomew nodded. “Let’s just get down there,” 

They approached much more slowly after that, for fear of being seen. 

“I suggest we scale the outside of the building, and look in through the windows,” Qrow suggested. 

Bartholomew nodded. 

They crept up to one of the crumbling walls and started to climb. A rock that Qrow was holding onto crumbled beneath his hands at one point, but Bartholomew steadied him and they kept going. 

Finally, they were on an awning above the windows. It was fairly easy to look in, as the windows were old and broken and not even tinted in the first place. 

Bartholomew gasped. “Oh my goodness, Oz…” 

“What where?” Qrow asked. 

Bartholomew shifted so that Qrow could also look into the same room as him. 

“He’s… he’s so thin,” Qrow mumbled, “He looks awful,” 

Indeed Ozpin did look awful. He was sitting in between Salem and Tyrian and seemed to be eating dinner with them. Even from a distance, he looked incredibly tired and almost fragile. There was clearly some sort of collar around his neck, and Salem was holding a chain attached to it. 

As Ozpin cut into the apple on his plate, the knife slipped and landed heavily on Salem’s hand. 

Salem yelled angrily and cuffed Ozpin around the ears. Ozpin didn’t even react. It was as if… he was used to it. 

After they had finished eating, Salem dragged Ozpin into the next hall. 

Bartholomew and Qrow shifted to watch. 

They were closer to them now, so they could even hear what they were saying. 

“I want to know how to get the relics,” Salem seethed. 

Ozpin said nothing. He merely stared at the floor. 

Salem yelled in frustration and slapped Ozpin across the face. 

It didn’t look like it was that hard, but Ozpin stumbled, tripped, and fell over in a heap in the floor. He didn’t even try to get up. Salem kicked him in the stomach, and Ozpin curled up, trying to protect himself. 

That was it. Bartholomew couldn’t stand it anymore. 

He swung himself off the window awning and crashed through the glass. 

Salem looked up, but Bartholomew had already dashed to Ozpin’s side and was holding him in his arms. Ozpin tried to push him away deliriously, but Bartholomew refused to let go. 

“Don’t you dare hurt him,” Bartholomew seethed. 

Salem looked shocked. Then she grinned and lit her hands up with magic. 

“I remember you,” she smirked, “you’re that pathetic hunter from a few months back,” 

Bartholomew didn’t dignify her with a response, and instead just held Ozpin protectively. 

Salem smiled and raised her hand when there was a sudden cry of “Hya!” from the side and she had to turn to throw up a shield to catch Qrow’s sword. 

Bartholomew saw his chance, picked Ozpin up and used his semblance to flee. 

Salem screamed, enraged that Ozpin had disappeared, and ignored Qrow for a second, giving him time to grab his sword, transform into a bird and flew out of the opposite window. 

Salem shrieked at the top of her voice and windows shattered as magic flew everywhere. 

Bartholomew didn’t dare slow down until he reached the top of the hill. There he stopped to wait for Qrow and take a closer look at Ozpin. 

Ozpin looked even worse close up. The immediate problem, of course, was the collar. Although Bartholomew didn’t have the tools to remove it here, he could at least make sure it was permanently deactivated. He stuck a dust insulator onto it, that would ensure the electric dust couldn’t form a full circuit and cause any more harm. 

Just then Qrow landed next to him. “Salem’s on our tail, we’ve got to move,” 

Bartholomew nodded. “Hold onto my arm tight,” 

“What?” 

“I’ll get us back to the beach with my semblance, it will be a lot quicker,” Bartholomew explained. 

“Won’t that use a heckin lot of aura?”Qrow asked. 

“It’ll probably use all of it, but that’s not important right now, now hold onto my arm!” 

Qrow grabbed Bartholomew’s arm, as Bartholomew picked Ozpin back up. 

Then Bartholomew pulled them into his semblance. It was difficult, using it on two extra people at once, and Bartholomew felt like he was wading through treacle, but it was working. They were already halfway down the hill. 

Ah, Grimm, of course. He had to avoid them. That was okay, they couldn’t catch them whilst they were going at this speed anyway. 

In about a minute, the beach came into view, and they stumbled onto the sand. 

Bartholomew’s aura broke, and they stumbled towards the cave. 

“You okay?”Qrow panted.

Bartholomew merely nodded, concentrating on getting Ozpin to the cave and the airship. 

Once they were in the cave, they stopped for breath. 

“That was… pretty impressive,” Qrow panted.

Bartholomew nodded in thanks. Then he looked down at Ozpin. “I think we’ll need to stop by the hospital,” 

Qrow looked at Ozpin as well. “Yeah, no kidding,” 

They then climbed into the airship. 

Bartholomew gently lay Ozpin down on a makeshift bed (that was actually two benches pushed together) whilst Qrow got the first aid kit. 

“I think we should wait ten minutes to take off,” Qrow said, handing the kit to Bartholomew, “Then we can leave under the cover of darkness.” 

Bartholomew nodded. 

He sighed as he looked at Ozpin. He was so thin. All of his ribs were clearly visible, and there were pink scars, sort of star-shaped, all over his torso. 

And his neck… There were bruises all around the collar and clear burn marks beneath.

“Let’s start by getting the collar off,” Bartholomew said. 

Qrow nodded and handed Bartholomew a small screwdriver. 

Bartholomew carefully unscrewed a small panel on the side of the collar. Thank goodness all hunters had received training on removing them after that nasty incident with an Atlesian politician a few years ago. 

Qrow handed him a special Atlesian tech-disabler, and Bartholomew zapped the inside of the panel with it. There was a click, and the collar sprung open. 

Bartholomew gently removed the collar, wincing at the sight of marred skin beneath it. 

Qrow looked away. “I’ll get the engine started.” 

Bartholomew nodded. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Bartholomew whispered to Oz. “I promise,”


	10. I'll be safe in your embrace

When Ozpin came-to, he could hear airship engines. Also, someone was holding his hand… 

He slowly opened his eyes. Qrow was sitting next to him, looking worried, and there was also Barty, who was holding his hand. 

He blinked and looked down at his chest. He was wearing… one of his pyjama tops? Well, anything was better than that horrible robe. As he shifted he could feel bandages around his torso. 

He tried to sit up, but Qrow put a firm hand on his shoulder. “You don’t want to do yourself any more damage,” he said.

Ozpin didn’t understand. What was happening? This couldn’t be real! Qrow and Bartholomew were dead, remember?

That thought brought tears to his eyes, and although they clearly weren’t real, Ozpin looked away from his friends. “Stop this vision, it’s cruel,” he managed to whisper, “You remind me so often that they are dead after all,” 

“Oh Oz,” Barty said, “Is that what she told you?” 

Ozpin didn’t respond. 

“We’re not dead,” Qrow responded, voice thick with emotion, “And I promise I will never let that bitch even look at you again!” 

That was odd… Why would Salem allow a vision to insult her? 

“Oz, we are really here,” Bartholomew said gently, lifting a hand to his cheek, and wiping away a tear with his thumb His touch was so gentle. It was the softest touch Ozpin had felt, in what seemed like forever. He leaned into Bartholomew’s hand, craving the affection. 

“We’re taking you to St Kayla’s hospital,” Qrow added. 

Ozpin frowned. “I haven’t heard of that hospital,” he rasped. 

“That’s because it’s new,” Qrow explained. 

“It was named after St Kayla, you know the faunus who housed refugees, humans and faunus alike, during the war?” Barty prompted. 

Ozpin thought for a moment. St Kayla did sound familiar… and if it was a new hospital how would Salem know about it? 

Ozpin frowned. “You could have just made that up,” he announced. “I’m not going to reveal information just because you’re showing me, my friends,” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Barty softly told him. 

“But please, believe us when we say that this is real- that bitch can’t hurt you now. We’ve left crucible- Sadly I didn’t manage to stick my sword through her side but one day I will,” Qrow added.

Okay… that was really strange. This “vision” just insulted Salem again… And said that he would one day kill Salem. Of course, the real Qrow would say something like that… But Salem always loved reinforcing how powerful she was. She wouldn’t let a vision of Qrow be so confident.. To say that he could beat her… or That Ozpin himself was safe. That could only mean… “This is real,” Ozpin breathed, “You came to save me!”

Bartholomew and Qrow both smiled at him softly. 

“That we did,” Qrow nodded. 

Ozpin felt more tears well up in his eyes. 

Then Qrow coughed and said something about piloting the airship, before getting up and leaving. 

Barty shifted onto Qrow’s chair so that he could be closer to Ozpin, but in doing so, he let go of Ozpin’s hand. It had been so long, Ozpin thought, so long since he had felt touch that had no malicious intent behind it. Touch that only conveyed love. 

“Hold me?” Ozpin asked quietly. He felt embarrassed, but right now what he needed, what he needed was to know that this was real. To feel it. 

“I don’t want to hurt you more by moving you at all” Barty argued. 

Ozpin pouted miserably. “But I’ve been moving about fine up until now, and nothing feels broken,” 

Barty hesitated. “Okay,” he agreed. He slipped an arm under Ozpin and gently moved so that Ozpin could lie in his arms. 

“I thought- I- I- I thought you were gone,” Ozpin whispered.

“It’s okay, we’re all safe, you too,” Barty replied softly, looking at Ozpin in the eyes, “I promise.”

“And Beacon? Is it standing?” Ozpin asked, choking up on his tears. 

Barty nodded. “Beacon is fine.” 

Ozpin turned to face Barty’s shoulder. He felt Barty hold him close. 

“It’s okay,” Barty mumbled into his hair, slowly rocking them back and forth, “Whatever visions she showed you, they weren’t real. It’s all over now, you’re safe,” 

Ozpin just cried into Barty’s shoulder, unable to process what was happening. Barty rubbed his back gently. 

“W-Why did you rescue me?” Ozpin managed. 

“What do you mean?” Barty asked softly. 

Ozpin looked up into Barty’s bright blue eyes, that were already sparkling with tears behind his glasses. 

“I’m… worthless. Why would you risk coming to Crucible to save me?” 

Barty’s face crumpled. “Oh, Oz,” he whispered, tears splashing onto his glasses, “of course you’re not worthless,” 

“But…” Ozpin thought for a moment, “Salem said… but I can reincarnate, so my life can’t end the way everyone else’s can,” 

“Your worth isn’t defined by what others, particularly Salem, say,” Barty reassured him, “And just because you reincarnate… that doesn’t make you worth any less than the rest of us. You have intrinsic worth just for existing,” 

“You really believe that?” Ozpin whispered.

Barty nodded. “I do, absolutely,” 

Ozpin hid his face on Barty’s shoulder again. “Thank you,” he sobbed, “thank you for rescuing me,” 

“Of course,” Barty replied quietly, “I’ll always help you if I can,” 

After that Ozpin didn’t talk much, and instead cried himself to sleep in Barty’s arms.

Qrow came back to check up on them a little while later, eyes red and puffy making it obvious that he had been crying too. 

“Do you know what he said?” Bartholomew said, looking at Qrow sadly. 

Qrow shook his head. 

“He-he said that he’s worthless,” Bartholomew whispered, clutching Ozpin tight to his chest as more tears ran down his face, “Salem somehow genuinely convinced him that he’s worthless,” 

“Fuck,” was all Qrow could say. He sat down on the chair by the bed again and ran a hand through Ozpin’s hair. 

“How much further to the hospital?” Bartholomew asked. 

“About six hours,” Qrow replied. 

“Thank goodness his life’s not in danger,” Bartholomew whispered. 

Qrow nodded.

...

 

When Ozpin next awoke, he was in a bed. 

A man in blue overalls and with a stethoscope around his neck smiled down at him. 

“How are you feeling?” the man asked gently. 

Ozpin frowned as he thought. “Like I was run over by a truck,” he settled on. 

The man laughed. “I’m not surprised. It’s good that you’re awake. Would you like to know what your injuries are?” 

Ozpin nodded. 

“Well, the worst issue is that you are severely undernourished,”

That was okay. He already knew that. 

“You don’t have any broken bones, although were a few fractures in your ribs that have been partially healed with aura. Your aura should be able to do the rest of the work, although you’ll be sore for a few days,” 

Okay, that was good. 

“Now about the bruising…” The doctor patted Ozpin’s shoulder, “You know the hospital offers free therapy for anyone who needs it?” 

Ozpin nodded again. 

“Good.” the doctor said, “Now, we tested you for STDs, but you’re clean. The bruises around your neck, although bad, are all superficial, and we used aura to heal the worst of it. 

“And finally, the burns” the doctor looked down at Ozpin worriedly, “Honestly I’ve never seen anything like it. They are like layers of stars, creeping all over your skin,” 

Of course, Ozpin thought glumly, magic fire. 

“We’ve treated you as best we can, although the scars…” 

Ozpin nodded. He had expected that. 

“You’ll be back on your feet in no time,” the Doctor reassured him, “can we give your friend-“ he looked at his notes “-Bartholomew Oobleck, details on the diet you should be on for the next few months? He says that you have no other family,” 

“That is correct- yes tell him- I thought he was already recorded as my emergency contact?”

“He is, but it’s the protocol to check with the patient first,” 

“And one more thing, would you like to see him?” 

Ozpin actually smiled softly, and nodded, “Please.” 

…

“Hey,” Barty said, approaching Ozpin’s bedside. 

“Hey,” Ozpin replied. Just seeing his friend, alive, meant the world to him. 

“Qrow is scared of hospitals, but he’ll visit as soon as your released,” Barty explained, sitting down on the chair next to the bed. 

Ozpin nodded. He hadn’t expected Qrow to visit the hospital, due to his semblance. 

“Do you know how long I’ll have to stay here?” Ozpin asked. 

“A few days, probably,” Barty answered. 

“Do you know when they’ll allow me to go back to teaching?”

Barty smiled. “Whenever you want; it is half-term at the moment, so classes won’t resume until the week after next anyway,” 

“Already?” Ozpin asked. Then, “how long…?”

“Over a month,” Barty replied. “I was so worried-“ he gently touched Ozpin’s shoulder, “but you’re safe now,” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. 

“You remember Mr. and Mrs. Auburn? From the historical society?” Barty asked. 

Ozpin nodded. 

“They’ve given me a flat- You know the giant apartment block where the historical society meets for tea?- in there. If you want, you could come and stay for a bit until your room at Beacon is sorted out?” 

That honestly raised a lot of questions. Why did Barty move out of Beacon? Why wasn’t his room the way he left it? But Ozpin was too tired to give it much thought at the moment. He’d ask his questions later. 

He nodded. “I’d like that,” 

Barty looked at the clock on the wall. 

“Do you have somewhere to be?” Ozpin asked. 

Barty nodded. “I have a meeting I need to be at in half an hour- but I can sit here for a few more minutes,” 

Ozpin smiled softly. “Thank you,” 

… 

“Mr. Green?” Ozpin asked surprised. He and Barty had just entered the apartment complex. The manager at the desk looked up. 

“Pip!” He exclaimed in surprise, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you! How are you?” 

Pip was the name that Ozpin’s mother had given him in this lifetime before he changed it. 

“I’m… I will be alright,” Ozpin managed, leaning heavily on his cane. “How are you?” 

“Oh, I’m doing just fine! What brings you here?” 

“Oh, I’m just staying with my friend-“ Ozpin gestured to Barty, “for a few weeks,” 

Mr. Green turned to Barty. “And who might you be? Any friend of Pip’s is a friend of mine, I can tell ya that! Ya know, last time I saw him, Pip was only yay high” Mr. Green gestured to about one meter tall. 

Ozpin started to walk towards the elevator before Mr. Green could get out any baby photos. 

...

“I forgot that you were such a good cook!” Ozpin exclaimed as Barty walked into the dining room carrying a saucepan of soup. 

Although Ozpin wasn’t hungry, at all, that soup… it smelled delicious! Barty poured it out into two bowls and passed Ozpin one of them. 

The soup was thick and creamy, and there were mushrooms floating in it. Dinner wasn’t nearly as bad as Ozpin had expected. He couldn’t eat much, but he thoroughly enjoyed what soup he could eat. 

After dinner, Ozpin and Barty decided to go straight to bed, even though it was still early. Ozpin suspected that Barty was only going to bed so Ozpin wouldn’t feel so weird about sleeping at 8:30, but he didn’t say anything about it.

It was a nice guest room. There was a double bed in the corner, with a fluffy cream duvet. In the opposite corner was a wardrobe with a full-length mirror on the door. 

Ozpin looked at himself curiously. He had almost forgotten what he looked like, even though it had only been a month. Had he always looked so gaunt, with such sunken eyes? He didn’t think so. He looked positively exhausted. 

He removed his fleece and top and stared at himself in shock. All of his ribs were visible. There were also bruises all around his collarbone and neck. The rest of his chest looked faintly black and blue, showing that the bruises there had been healed. He slipped off his soft trousers and was unsurprised to see bruises down the inside of both legs. Shaking his head, Ozpin quickly changed into a pair of pyjamas. 

He then sat on the edge of the bed. Sleep. Right. The thing he really wasn’t looking forward too. 

There was a knock on his door, and Barty came in. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, setting down a mug of hot cocoa on the bedside table and sitting down next to Ozpin. 

Ozpin nodded. “I’m just a little apprehensive… sleep… nightmares…” 

Barty nodded. “Hug?” he offered. 

Ozpin gratefully relaxed into Barty’s arms. “I just… If I wake up… And think I’m back there… I-I-“ 

“Would it help if I stayed?” Barty asked softly. 

Ozpin nodded. “Please,” 

Barty leant back and pulled the duvet over them so that they were comfortably lying in the middle of the bed. 

“How’s… everything been going?” Ozpin asked. 

Barty thought for a moment. “I’m not supposed to overwhelm you with information…” 

“Just, in general?” Ozpin asked. 

“Well… Glynda took over as headmistress. She’s already working the paperwork to step down and let you become headmaster again,” Barty ventured.

Ozpin nodded. “Always the efficient one,” 

“Port’s classes are going well,” Barty continued. 

“And what about you?” Ozpin asked.

Barty tensed. “Umm, well, I’ve spent the last month working with Qrow… looking for you,” 

“Oh.” Ozpin thought for a moment, “How did you find me?” 

“It was actually a lucky guess,” Barty admitted. “We worked out the cafe that you went missing from- we found your cane- but there weren’t any other leads,” 

“I- I was drugged,” Ozpin explained, “I think it was the waitress- she had black hair? - who spiked my drink,”

“Waitress?” Barty asked, “But that café doesn’t have any waiters- I talked to the owner- and she has brown hair…” 

“Odd,” Ozpin mumbled. 

“They did say there was a customer with black hair though, and that she seemed to be with you,” 

“ah.” Ozpin stated. “she wasn’t- I was on my own,” 

They lay there in silence for a few more minutes. 

“When I came to- I was tied up the spaceship- and the - the - the collar was already there,” Ozpin breathing quickened, and Barty gently rubbed circles on his back. 

“It’s okay,” Barty whispered, “you’re safe now,” 

Ozpin continued to shake. “The collar stopped my magic, and my aura and my semblance-I was helpless- They were times when they allowed me to use aura to heal slightly - usually after particularly rough beatings- but I could never use my magic,” 

“Oh Oz,” Barty mumbled, as Ozpin cried onto his shoulder, “that’s terrible,” 

As the night moved on Ozpin cried himself to sleep. 

Barty looked at Ozpin sadly. “I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner,” he whispered, eyes filling with tears, “And I promise I’ll never let her hurt you again; none of us will. We love you,”


	11. Healing takes a while

Screaming… Bartholomew could hear screaming… he looked around in the dark room and saw Ozpin, limp on the floor. Tyrian was standing over him, laughing maniacally. Tyrian turned to look at Bartholomew and licked his lips. 

Bartholomew woke up gasping and tried to sit up. He found he couldn’t since someone was… hugging him? 

He looked down to see Ozpin pressed against his shoulder, holding him tightly. He sighed in relief, and snuggled back down into the bedclothes, returning Ozpin’s hug. 

As he tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself, Bartholomew realised that Ozpin was also shaking. 

He gently rubbed Ozpin’s back, in what he hoped was a soothing manner. 

Ozpin suddenly pushed away from him a little and sat up a bit. “Barty?” he sniffling. 

“R-right here,” Bartholomew replied. 

He felt Ozpin’s gentle hand on his cheek. 

“You’re crying?” Ozpin asked softly. 

“So are you,” Bartholomew replied. 

“Nightmare?” Ozpin asked, snuggling back down into his arms. 

Bartholomew nodded. 

“Me too,” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bartholomew offered. 

“Well… you can talk about yours first if you need,” Ozpin replied. 

Bartholomew almost laughed. “I think that your need may be a little greater than mine, dear friend,” 

“But I don’t matter, not like you,” 

Bartholomew sighed and rubbed Ozpin’s back. “As someone who loves you, I firmly believe that’s not true,” 

“You… love me?” Ozpin asked quietly. He then started to shake again. “In… In my nightmare… because everyone hated me… Salem-Salem was doing her usual- torture- and I felt like I deserved it-“ 

“Ozpin, I can assure that all of your friends love you, all of your students love you. You are one of the kindest souls on this planet, and you absolutely did not deserve whatever Salem did to you,” 

Ozpin nodded into Bartholomew’s shoulder. “I don’t- can’t agree- but thank you. Now, do- do you want to talk about your nightmare?” 

Bartholomew slowly nodded. “There was screaming… And I was back, in that dungeon… and - and Tyrian had just killed you - I was too late.” 

Ozpin ran a hand through Bartholomew’s hair. “It’s okay. You weren’t. You saved me. Thanks to you- I’m here. And I may be weak but I will do anything in my power to keep Tyrian away from you,” 

“Th-thank you,” Bartholomew mumbled. 

Slowly, the two of them dropped back off to sleep. 

… 

When they woke up in the morning, the lay in bed for a bit, enjoying each other’s company. 

“Good morning,” Bartholomew said softly. 

“Good morning,” Ozpin replied quietly, and as an afterthought muttered: “It’s nice not to be pushed out of bed as a wake-up call,” 

Bartholomew whined crossly and briefly hugged Oz protectively. 

Then he asked, “Would you like to go to the historical society tea this afternoon?” 

Ozpin thought about that for a second. “How much do the historical society… uh, know?” 

“Well- It was announced on TV that you’re dead…” Bartholomew ventured.

“What!?” Ozpin asked.

“Well, you’re fairly well known- as the headmaster of Beacon- and your supposed bones were found with the remains of your clothes,” 

“Oh,” was all Ozpin could say. 

“Of course that statement has been retracted, and I called Mlle Du-Capucine as soon as you were in the hospital to let her know you were alright,” Bartholomew continued. 

“You- you thought I was dead?” Ozpin asked. 

Bartholomew nodded. 

“But you still came for me?” 

Bartholomew nodded again. “I- I couldn’t believe it. It was just wrong. And I had to be sure you weren’t in Crucible-“ 

“You risked coming to Crucible without even knowing if I was there or even alive?” Ozpin whispered, lip trembling. 

Bartholomew nodded. “That’s what you do when you love someone,” 

Ozpin’s eyes filled with tears, and he hugged Bartholomew again. “Thank you,” he whispered, “Thank you so much,”

“It’s okay,” Bartholomew replied, “I know you’d do the same- in fact, you did the same for me,”


	12. Love and support

“How are you feeling?” Qrow asked, plonking himself down next to Ozpin on the couch. 

Ozpin grimaced. “A lot better… but not… perfect,”

They sat there in awkward silence for a few moments. 

“Oz, I’m so sorry we didn’t find you sooner-” Qrow started, “-There were no leads and we didn’t know where you were and Remnant is a big place. It was dumb luck that we found you at all really!”

“It’s okay,” Ozpin replied softly, “I don’t blame you,” 

Qrow took a deep breath. “I already said this but; I won’t let that dumb bitch even look at you ever again! She’s gonna pay for what she did. One day.” 

Ozpin snorted. “Unlikely, but I appreciate the sentiment,” 

Qrow huffed. “Oz-I- I’m so sorry that she managed to catch you,” 

“It’s happened before- she always manages,” Ozpin mumbled looking away, “It’s really not your fault,” 

“And the thing with the knife just before we arrived? When you cut her hand? That was my semblance,” Qrow continued.

Ozpin shook his head. “Salem would have found a reason to hit me regardless. And your semblance isn’t your fault- at least no one got hurt,” 

“You got hurt though…” Qrow whispered. 

“Well- At least no one important got hurt,” Ozpin amended. 

Qrow sighed. “She really got to your head, didn’t she?” 

Ozpin looked at the floor. “I’m doing my best,” 

Qrow reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, “It’s not your fault Oz- anyone would be low on self-confidence after that. I’m just saying that you are important- you matter- to me- to Barty- all the inner circle - all your friends- we’re here for you, so don’t you forget it,” 

....

The afternoon tea with the historical society was lovely. 

Ozpin sat in a comfy plush armchair, next to Mlle Du-Capucine, and her latest puppy and an old English sheepdog that was only 5 weeks old sat on his lap. 

Ozpin loved Mlle Du-Capince. She didn’t ask any awkward questions, and when the topic of his disappearance came up, she just patted him on the arm and said it was good to have him back. 

“Oh- that reminds me- I’ve got a gift for you!” Mlle Du-Capucine suddenly remarked. She searched around in her handbag, before handing Ozpin a soft package wrapped in shiny silver wrapping paper covered in little stars. 

“Thank you,” he said, taking it.

“I hope it fits alright- I based the size of one of your shirts that I got from Bartholomew-“ 

Ozpin carefully opened the package and found something green inside. It was woollen, and obviously, hand made. Unfolding it, Ozpin gasped. It was a green turtle-neck jumper! 

Ozpin held it up to his face. “Thank you, thank you so much,” he mumbled, blinking away a few tears. 

Mlle Du-Capucine gently patted him on the arm. “It’s no problem deary- It’s nice for me to have something to knit whilst I watch the puppies. Is the shade okay? I know you like dark green-“

“It’s perfect,” Ozpin replied, “I love it,” 

“I’m glad,” Mlle Du-Capucine said. “Now did I tell you about this little chap’s older brother? I’ve called him pickle because he’s the most curious puppy I’ve ever raised…” 

… 

“So Glynda has asked if you’d like to see her tomorrow afternoon?” Qrow informed Ozpin over dinner. 

Ozpin nodded. “Okay. If that’s alright with you Barty? This is your flat after all,” 

Barty shrugged, “As they say in Vacuo ‘Ce qui m’appartient t’appartient’. In other words, what’s mine is yours. Feel free to invite whoever over whenever,” 

“And Ironwood said that he’s happy to come and see you too sometime, if you’d like,” Qrow added. 

This time Ozpin firmly shook his head. “No- no. I don’t want to offend him, but I’m really not up to dealing with him at the moment,” 

“Okay,” Barty said, “Is there anything you’d like to do this evening?” 

Just then there was a knock on the door. Barty went to answer it and came back with a large brown box in his hands. 

“What’s that?” Ozpin asked. 

Barty smiled. “It’s a new video game I ordered weeks ago! It’s finally arrived!” 

“What game is it?” Qrow asked, as Barty grabbed a knife and slit open the sides. 

“It’s called “The King Of Vale”. It’s a role-playing strategy game where you have to play through the great war” 

“It sounds interesting, shall we play it?” Ozpin asked. 

Barty nodded eagerly. “I’d love too,” 

He ran off to the living room to set it up whilst Ozpin and Qrow stacked up the dinner plates in the kitchen.

A few minutes later they were all sitting on the sofa, controller each in hand, watching the opening cutscene. 

“Why do I- Why does the king of Vale have such huge eyes?” Ozpin asked. 

“He’s the protagonist- it’s an anime thing,” Barty replied. 

“It looks stupid,” Qrow muttered. 

On the screen, a portal appeared and two clones of the King of Vale hopped out. 

“What-“ Ozpin started.

“It’s because we’re playing three player- you two are the kings from the parallel dimensions,” Barty quickly explained. 

“I certainly don’t remember that happening,” 

Qrow snorted with laughter. “I doubt this game is supposed to be realistic, considering the size of all the character’s eyes,”

“Just anime,” Barty muttered. 

Half an hour later they were all deep in concentration when… 

“The evil dog is piloting a mech suit?!” Ozpin exclaimed. 

“I said it wasn’t exactly realistic,” Barty replied. 

“Can we try battle royal mode?” Ozpin asked.

“Oh yeah!” Qrow exclaimed. 

Barty nodded. “Sure- but you have to fight other historical figures and I thought you might not like that… if you knew who they were.” 

Ozpin shrugged, and they went into the menu. “Oh! You can fight Grey Flute and Jacob Hunt! We have to try that!” 

Barty raised an eyebrow. 

“They were the most annoying generals I ever met!” Ozpin explained dramatically, “They were self-serving, arrogant, racist and so right wing that any further and they would have unbalanced the whole government. The worst part was because they were aristocracy I had to always be polite to them,” 

Bartholomew snickered. “Alright then, let’s teach them a lesson- Fast Clock style!” 

Ozpin raised one eyebrow. “Fast clock?” 

“It’s our team attack name, remember? Because I’m super-fast and you like clocks?” 

“I thought our team attack name was Green coffee?” 

“That sounds like a mouldy drink!” 

“Then chocolate-coffee?” 

“What about Fast-chocolate?” 

…

“Barty?” Ozpin asked softly. It was late in the evening, and they were about to go to bed. 

“Yes, Oz?” 

Ozpin shuffled his feet awkwardly. “This is… kinda stupid but… I… Ireallydon’tlikebeingaloneandIwaswonderingifyouwouldmaybestaywithmeagaintonight?” 

Barty looked confused. “Uh- could you repeat that a little slower please?” 

Ozpin looked at the floor. “I’m scared of being alone-“ he whispered, “and I was wondering if you could stay with me again tonight?” 

“Of course!” Barty replied cheerfully, “that’s not a problem!” he paused for a second, “in fact- I actually- don’t like being alone either,” 

Ozpin looked up at him surprised. “Really?” 

Oobleck’s honest blue eyes stared back at him through his glasses. “Really- I’m worried that- I’ll get- that I’ll get-“ 

“kidnapped,” Ozpin said it with him. They hugged. 

“Shall we just share a room for a bit from now on?” Barty asked into Ozpin’s hair. 

Ozpin nodded. “I’d like that a lot,” 

… 

Late that night, Ozpin woke up screaming. 

He immediately covered his mouth and started to choke on his tears, but Barty was already awake. 

He sat up next to him. “It’s okay,” he whispered, “you’re safe,” 

Ozpin broke into sobs. 

“Can I hug you?” Barty mumbled. 

Ozpin nodded. 

Barty carefully hugged him, pulling into his arms. “You’re safe,” Barty soothed, rocking them back and forth gently, “I promise you’re safe,” 

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Ozpin whispered, once he had calmed down. 

“It’s quite alright,” Barty replied soothingly, “I’m here to comfort you,” 

“But-“ Ozpin argued, “I keep asking for so much. I know I’m needy, and I’m sorry, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” 

“I seem to remember you comforting me not all that long ago after the Tyrian incident-“ Barty rebuked, “and in any case, I don’t count favours. Not with friends. I’ll always do my best to be kind to you. And do you know why?” 

Ozpin shook his head. 

“Because you are worth it. Being your friend is more than enough payment,” 

Ozpin shook as he started to cry again. “Thank you,” he whispered, “thank you.” 

They lay back down on the bed covers, but only a few minutes later, Ozpin shot up and ran to the bathroom. He threw up. 

Once Ozpin had washed his hands and cleaned himself up, Barty gently knocked on the bathroom door. 

“Are you alright?” Barty called out softly. 

“Y-yes,” Ozpin answered shakily, opening the door. He stared at Barty for a moment, no glasses and in pyjamas, and realised how lucky he was to have him as a friend. A friend who was really looking out for him, and even willing to get up in the middle of the night to look after him. Ozpin felt his eyes prick, and Barty held out his arms for a hug. 

Ozpin gladly sagged against him. 

He felt Barty’s cool hand against his forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever…” Barty muttered. 

Ozpin shook his head. “I threw up just from thinking about… about what happened…” 

Barty gently rubbed his back. “Is there anything you want right now?” 

“I- I kind of want to take a shower, but that’s stupid because it’s the middle of the night,” Ozpin murmured. 

“You can take a shower if you want,” Barty reassured him, “I’ll still be here when you’re done,” 

Ozpin nodded. “Thank you- I’ll - I’ll do that now,” 

Despite what he said, Ozpin couldn’t bring himself to let go of Barty. Barty gently kissed him on the forehead. “Go have your shower,” he murmured, “It’s okay.” 

Ozpin finally let go, and went and took a shower. Barely ten minutes later, he climbed back into bed and snuggled into Bartholomew’s arms. 

“Better?” Bartholomew asked. 

“Better,” Ozpin agreed. 

… 

The following afternoon, Glynda visited. It was nice to finally see her, although Ozpin did have to give her a brief rundown of what had happened to him. 

Once he had finished, Glynda gently covered his hands with her own. “I’m so sorry that that happened to you,” she said softly. 

After that, they played a few rounds of draughts, as they discussed what paperwork Ozpin would have to do to become headmaster again. 

“Not that I’m actually any good at paperwork,” Ozpin joked. 

Glynda sighed. “Why do you do that?” 

“Do what?” 

“Make self-deprecating jokes all of the time?”

Ozpin shrugged. “I… I like it. It’s supposed to be funny- because it’s true?” 

Glynda glared at him. 

Ozpin took in a deep breath. She wasn’t really angry. Probably. 

“But it’s not true!” Glynda exclaimed, “Don’t you see? We all care about you, and we all know that you are brilliant. So why can’t you just trust us?” 

Okay, she was angry. Ozpin felt his hands start to shake. Adrenaline. Right. And it was getting hard to breath. Panic attack. Just what he needed. 

Ozpin stood up. “I have to go,” he managed, before practically running to his bedroom. 

Once inside, he closed the door and collapsed onto his bed, before curling up as small as possible. He hadn’t meant to make Glynda angry. 

When Glynda had yelled… for a second Ozpin had been reminded of Salem. It made him feel guilty even thinking that. And it was just because she wore purple, and had pale skin. Glynda was nothing like Salem. She was kind, intelligent, and most of all, she would never hurt him. Ozpin still didn’t like her being angry with him though. 

Tears trickle down his face, as he tried to breath. Just focus on breathing, he told himself. 

Did everyone hate his self-deprecating jokes? Was he hurting them with his own low confidence? He didn’t want to hurt his friends! He really didn’t want to… Was he a burden to everyone? With all his problems… maybe they were only sticking around because they pitied him. Maybe they resented him. 

There was a knock on his door, and Glynda opened it. 

“Ozpin,” she called out quietly, “I’m so sorry I yelled, I didn’t think,” 

Ozpin didn’t reply. 

“Can I come in?” Glynda asked. 

“S-sure,” Ozpin mumbled. He didn’t really want her to come in, but he still hadn’t gotten the hang of saying no to people, and in any case, he didn’t want to make her any angrier. 

Glynda sat on the bed behind him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know, I’m really angry at Salem, not you. I can’t imagine what she did to your self-confidence. I do understand that you can’t help it,” 

Ozpin didn’t reply. 

“I just wish…” Glynda continued, “remember that even when you can’t care about yourself, the rest of us care about you. So please look after yourself at least for our sake?” 

Ozpin nodded. “Right,” he sniffed.


	13. One problem does not mitigate another

and Ozpin couldn’t find the iron supplements he was supposed to take with lunch, which was annoying. He quickly texted Barty to ask him if he knew where they were.

He got a reply a few minutes later saying that there were some more in Barty’s bedside table.

Ozpin went into Barty’s room. It looked barely used - since they were both sleeping in Ozpin’s room anyway- but there were a few clothes strewn about.

Ozpin walked over to the bedside table and pulled out the drawer. The tablets were right there, on the top.

Ozpin was about to put the drawer back when he noticed that the sheet of paper in the bottom had his name on it.

It was Barty’s drawer though. He shouldn’t pry. But if it had his name on it…

Ozpin picked up the page, and the one beneath it, and decided to just skim his eyes over it.

_My dearest Oz, my team partner, my most trusted companion, and best friend-_

It read,

_I do not think I realised how hard this moment would be. But this is my last chance to say goodbye to him so I will not pass it up._

_Ozpin and I met outside the examination hall for the Beacon entrance exam. I think he was a little taken aback- I was very into the goth look at that time. For his part he looked much the same as he does- did. He still wore the dark green turtleneck his mother made him up until his death._

Ozpin stopped reading for a moment. This- this was a eulogy. It wasn’t meant for his eyes. But… a small part of him was curious. What else had Barty written? He continued to read.

_We met again on the airship to Beacon. I must say I was glad to least know the name of someone. As an awkward teenager, I wasn’t the best at making friends. But Ozpin; Ozpin was kind. He had that kindness to him that drew others in and made them care for him. And because for some reason he chose to stick with me, I came to know those people too._

_I will always remember the moment our eyes met in the forest and I knew he would be my partner for the next four years. I was so relieved; instead of being with someone I didn’t know I was with the kind smart boy who had been kind to me on the airship._

_He also turned out to be an excellent fighter, and naturally became the leader of team OBGN._

_Over the years you would think that we might grow apart, but we didn’t. We both stayed at Beacon, me to do a Ph.D. and him because he had just become the youngest headmaster on record._

_Throughout the years we faced many struggles- and I know he had his demons- but somehow- through it all- he stayed strong. He always put others first, always had a word of encouragement to say, and always stood by his beliefs._

_It is an honour to have worked with him, and an even bigger honour to call him my best friend._

_I shall sorely miss you, dear Oz, for all my remaining days on this earth._

_Your best friend,  
Bartholomew Oobleck_

Ozpin put the page down and wiped his eyes with a sniff.

Why was he tearing up? He wasn’t actually dead. He was fine. Damn, it was weird reading his own Eulogy.

Ozpin moved onto the next page. Maybe it was just a draft? And gasped.

 

_By the time you read this, I shall be long dead. I am sorry for any pain my death causes, but do not mourn for me. I chose death. I’ve realised it’s the only way I can stop causing others pain._

_I know I am a coward, and I hope you can forgive me. When Oz comes back, tell him it’s not his fault. His death hurt more than I thought possible, but I do not know if even he could save me now. Everything hurts. I hate myself so much. I just want it to end._

_Much love and apologies  
Bartholomew_

A suicide note. Shakily, Ozpin grabbed his scroll and dialed Bartholomew’s number.

“Hello?” Barty’s voice answered.

Ozpin immediately felt his chest sigh in relief. “I- It’s Ozpin. I just found a note in your dresser? And I was worried-“

“Oh,” Barty paused for a second. “Which one?”

“Both,” Ozpin replied.

There was another second’s silence.

“About the note- It’s old,” Barty eventually said, “I obviously didn’t go through with it,”

“Right,” Ozpin whispered, feeling tears run down his face. “When do think you’ll be back?”

“I’m on my way home- I’ll be ten minutes or so,”

Fifteen minutes later Ozpin was sitting in the living room on the sofa, waiting.

Barty walked through the door, slung his rucksack on the floor, saw Ozpin in the living room and joined him on the sofa.

His eyes were red-rimmed.

“You’ve been crying?” Ozpin asked gently.

“Panic attacks- nothing to worry about,” Barty replied, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with a cloth from his pocket.

“Have you been having a lot of panic attacks recently?” Ozpin asked softly.

Barty looked away and placed his glasses on the coffee table. “Yes- but please don’t worry about me, my problems aren’t important,”

“oh Barty,” Ozpin said softly, “why would you say that?”

“Because,” Barty looked up at him, “because what you’ve just been through is indescribably horrible. Because; any problems I have can’t compare to yours. I want to help you, not burden you with my own pathetic issues,”

“Barty, just because I have problems it doesn’t mitigate yours,” Ozpin said sternly, lifting a hand to his shoulder, “You are allowed to have issues as well,”

“I… My issues are so stupid though. I should just deal with them,” Barty muttered.

“And what if I told you I’d rather that you let me help you?” Ozpin offered.

Barty shook his head. “I’m supposed to be the one helping you,”

“Friendship is a two-way street,” Ozpin replied, “You can’t always give,”

“But you’ve already given me so much. When I was the one who got kidnapped, you rescued me; Now it’s my turn to look after you,” Barty retorted.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t still give.” Ozpin replied, “I want to help. Think of it this way, you can give me your trust. Your trust that I won’t be overwhelmed by your emotions and that I will do my best to help you in any way I can,”

“I-“ Barty mumbled, eyes sparkling. His lip trembled and tears ran down his cheeks.

Ozpin held out his arms, and Barty hesitantly melted into the hug. He started to cry, shaking.

Ozpin gently ran a hand through his hair, letting him just cry it out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ozpin asked softly a few minutes later.

“Are you sure… you don’t mind?” Barty whispered back.

Ozpin nodded his head. “I’m sure; please, let me help you,”

“It’s just… everything is so hard,” Barty started, “I keep having panic attacks, almost daily. It seems like anything sets me off; that’s why I quit teaching. I wasn’t able to predict if I could make it to class and I thought it would be better if Glynda found someone else to teach history,”

“But you’re coming back?” Ozpin asked.

Barty nodded. “Glynda couldn’t find anyone else… and with you back… I wanted to be around…”

“For the record, I’m glad you’re coming back to Beacon with me,” Ozpin mumbled.

“As for the note…. I just felt so useless. I can’t teach and mark papers properly because I can’t concentrate. I can’t even enjoy myself because reading is too much effort and going out means I’m bound to encounter a trigger and have a panic attack,” Barty was crying again, “but then, when it came down to it, I-I couldn’t do it. I’m a coward because I tried to choose death and even more of a coward for not going through with it,”

“Oh Barty,” Ozpin mumbled, “Not going through with it, that’s incredibly brave. That’s choosing life against all odds. I’m so proud of you,”

“But- I- I-“

“You’re having a really hard time,” Ozpin soothed, “but you’re going to get through this. Things will get better. I promise.”

Barty nodded, “r-right. I- I’m so glad you’re here,”

“I’m glad you’re here too,”

…


	14. Poppies to honour the dead

“Poppy!” Ozpin yelled, waking up from his nightmare. 

“Who’s Poppy?” Bartholomew asked, half awake. 

Ozpin was crying too much to reply. Bartholomew sat up next to him and rubbed gentle circles on his back. 

“It’s okay,” his whispered, “you’re safe,” 

Ozpin shook his head. “But Poppy… Poppy’s dead!” 

“Who’s Poppy?” Bartholomew asked. 

“Poppy… from team PNPL. They graduated a few years ago, remember?” 

Bartholomew nodded. He remembered now. For a moment he thought about asking how Ozpin was so sure she was dead but decided against it. Now wasn’t the time.

Suddenly, Ozpin scrambled off the bed and dashed to the bathroom. Bartholomew could hear him throwing up. 

He sighed, waited a few moments, before climbing out of bed himself, to make sure Ozpin was okay. 

Ozpin was curled up on the floor by the bath, sobbing. His breathing was ragged, and Bartholomew realised that he was hyperventilating. 

“It’s okay,” Bartholomew said gently, “you can breath,” 

Ozpin shook his head. “-Can’t-“ he rasped. 

“Yes you can,” Bartholomew soothed, “Here… on three take a deep breath… one- two- three-“ 

Ozpin tried to take a breath but it didn’t really work. 

“Can I take your hand?” Bartholomew asked gently. 

Ozpin nodded. 

Bartholomew softly took Ozpin’s hand and placed it on his own chest. “You can feel me breathing, right? Can you try and breath at the same time?” 

Ozpin nodded, and ever so slowly his breathing evened out as he copied Bartholomew. 

Now they just had to deal… with everything else. 

“Can I hug you?” Bartholomew asked softly. 

Ozpin nodded, and Bartholomew cuddled him tight to his chest. 

“Everything will be okay now,” he mumbled into Ozpin’s hair, “You’re safe,” 

A few minutes later Ozpin’s sobbing subsided to mere tears. 

“Do you want to go back to bed now?” Bartholomew offered. 

Ozpin nodded. They both got up, Ozpin washed his face and went back to bed. 

“I’m sorry… I can’t explain it right now,” Ozpin whispered once they were snuggled under the covers. 

“It’s okay,” Bartholomew replied, “You don’t have to. It would probably be better to try and think of something calming to go to sleep,” 

Ozpin nodded. “You’re right of course. Easier said than done though,” 

Bartholomew thought for a moment. “Do you want me to tell you about my book?” 

“You’re writing a book?” Ozpin asked in amazement. 

“Well, I don't think I’ll ever have time to, but I’ve certainly imagined a story,” 

“Tell me?” Ozpin asked softly. 

“Of course,” Bartholomew cleared his throat and began, “This story starts about 600 years ago, in a small town called Farim-don. It rested on the outskirts of Vale, and Coran, who had seen many a town in her lifetime, thought that she had never seen one quite as pretty as this …” 

… 

“We could build a pillow fort?” Bartholomew suggested. 

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. They were coming up with ideas of what to do for the rest of the day. 

“Oh come on,” Bartholomew grinned, “it will be fun,” 

“Isn’t that what little kids do?” Ozpin mumbled. 

“Well… That doesn’t mean we can’t,” Bartholomew replied, “Look, you go and get some blankets whilst I set up the chairs. We can put a mattress on the floor to lie on as well,” 

Half an hour later, Ozpin begrudgingly accepted that this had been quite a good idea. 

He felt oddly safe in their makeshift tent, curled up against Bartholomew. 

They heard some thunder outside and Ozpin flinched. He wasn’t scared of thunder, it was just… he was still angsty enough that any sudden noises made him jump. 

“It’s okay,” Barty mumbled into his hair, “There may be monsters outside but you’re safe in here,” 

Ozpin sighed. “I think… I’m a monster,” he mumbled. 

“Oh, Oz-“ Barty started, “Why would you-“ 

“-you don’t know what I’ve done,” Ozpin interjected. 

“I can’t believe you are capable of anything that would make you a monster,” 

Ozpin felt his eyes tear up. “But I- I tortured Poppy!” 

Barty was silent for a moment. Probably in shock. 

“I- Salem said that she would torture Poppy for days on end until she died or I could torture her a little “ Ozpin explained through his tears, “I didn’t want to- I didn’t want to-“ 

Barty gently rubbed his back. “I think- That there were no good options. So you did the best thing you could have done. You caused the least pain possible. That doesn’t make you a monster,” 

Ozpin just softly sobbed onto Barty’s shoulder. 

“You’re not a monster- I promise,” Barth mumbled, “although I’m so sorry Salem made you do that,” 

… 

“I told Salem the codes,” Ozpin said quietly. They were sitting in the living room, drinking coffee. “All the ones I could remember… the one to my office, the one-“ 

“It’s okay,” Barty interrupted him. “It’s protocol to change all of them when there’s a missing person,” 

“So nothing I said actually did any damage?” Ozpin asked quietly.

“No harm done,” Barty reassured him, placing a hand on his arm, “Everyone is safe.” 

Ozpin nodded, eyes filling with tears. “I’m so relieved,” he whispered, “I tried to reveal the codes so that Salem would let me not torture Poppy but then Salem went back on her word after I revealed them,” 

Barty gently hugged him. “That’s horrible, I’m so sorry,”


	15. Words

The next day, Port and professor Peach visited. It was nice, even if their conversations were awkward and stunted, and mostly ended up revolving around the weather. They ended up playing Cluedo, which Ozpin won, and drinking tea. 

It was nice. It was relaxing. 

But it did make Ozpin realise how much he wanted to go back to Beacon. He wanted to be around his colleagues; his friends. Staying with Barty was amazing, but he did miss Beacon. He even missed teaching somewhat. Still, only a week left to go. Then term would start again, and he could go back to his normal life. He was looking forward to it. 

… 

Taiyang and Qrow were supposed to visit that afternoon. However, shortly before they were due to arrive, there was yelling in the hallway. 

“Ruby! How are you here?” a male voice shouted. 

“Well, I may have been in the car when you drove off…” the unmistakable voice of Miss Rose supplied. 

“Then go back to the car!” the voice shouted, “You’re not supposed to be here,” 

“But I want to see Professor Ozpin! I want to know that he’s okay! They said on TV that he was dead! I want to make sure they were wrong!” Miss Rose shouted back. 

“Just let her come- Oz won’t mind,” the gravelly voice of Qrow broke in. 

“But-” 

Ozpin looked at Barty and gestured towards the door. “Shall we invite them in?” 

Barty nodded, and went and opened the door. 

Qrow lead everyone in. Tai looked mildly annoyed and Ruby suddenly seemed oddly shy. She had behind Taiyang as they all said hello. 

Then, she silently passed Ozpin a box, wrapped in colourful red paper. 

“Why thank you,” Ozpin said, opening it. Inside was a box of homemade cookies. 

“I made them myself,” Ruby said quietly. 

“Then I am sure they will be delicious,” Ozpin said, putting the box down on the table. 

Once he had done so, Ruby suddenly ran up to him and hugged him. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” she mumbled. 

Ozpin gently patted her head, laughing. To know that someone so young, so pure as Ruby cared about his well being was sweet. If she didn’t already have a father, Ozpin would have adopted her there and then. 

“Why don’t we move to the living room?” Ozpin suggested, “that way we can sit in comfort,” 

They ended up all playing Remnant: The Game. 

Ozpin was Vale, Taiyang was Vacuo, Ruby and Qrow were Atlas, and Barty was Haven. 

Surprisingly, Taiyang won, which he was very smug about. Ozpin almost pointed out that it was mostly because he got extremely lucky with his cards, but thought better of it at the last second. Better not to risk annoying him. 

...

That night Barty was the first to awaken with a nightmare. 

“Tyrian?” Ozpin asked quietly. 

Barty nodded. 

“You okay for a hug?” 

Barty paused, before nodding again and burying himself into Ozpin’s embrace. 

“I’m sorry, “ he whispered, “you don’t get enough sleep as it is. You don’t need to be dealing with me too.” 

“It’s okay,” Ozpin whispered, “I know first hand how terrifying Tyrian can be when he wants,” 

They lay for a few minutes. 

“Tyrian hurt you too?” Barty asked Ozpin softly, lying back onto his pillow. 

Ozpin nodded. “Not a lot… Salem preferred to have me to herself…” 

“Those two are brilliant are shattering people’s self-confidence,” Barty muttered. 

“That they are,” Ozpin agreed, “Not to mention… the shame and the fear… screaming for help…” 

Barty nodded. “Exactly. The worst of it is though… how it leaves you broken… how it… how you feel tainted…” 

Ozpin felt a few tears roll sideways down his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Barty mumbled, “I didn’t mean to make you cry,”

“No, it’s okay,” Ozpin whispered. “It’s just so… relatable…” 

Realisation seemed to cross Barty’s face. “You don’t have to answer this,” he began, “but Tyrian… oh, Oz… did Tyrian rape you?” 

Ozpin shook his head, more tears spilling out of his eyes. “No…” he whispered. 

This, this would be the perfect opportunity. Ozpin could tell Barty that although Tyrian didn’t rape him, Salem did. But… He couldn’t formulate the words. And besides, Barty was still upset over his own nightmare. So he said nothing. 

Barty wrapped an arm around him gently. 

“Goodnight,” he whispered, “I love you,” 

Ozpin smiled through his tears at that. “Goodnight,” he replied, returning the hug, “love you too,” 

… 

“I lied to you,” Ozpin said quietly. It was the next morning, and the two of them were just lying in bed. 

“Hm? When?” Barty asked, surprised. 

“Last night,” Ozpin choked up, “When you asked me if Tyrian raped me…” 

“Oh Oz,” Barty whispered, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that. You were perfectly within your right to lie,” 

Barty offered Ozpin a hug, and Ozpin gladly accepted it, clinging to his chest.

“It was a lie of omission,” Ozpin clarified, “Tyrian… Tyrian didn’t rape me… but Salem… Salem did,” 

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Barty told him gently, “That’s privacy. Not lying,” he paused for a second, “But I am happy to listen if you need to get it off your chest,” 

Ozpin nodded. “It-It's happened before. Every time she kidnaps me in fact. I think- because we were married- I owe her- she thinks she has a right to my body-“ 

“Ozpin, you never owe anyone anything you don’t want to do,” Barty reassured him, “And no one- absolutely no one apart from you- has a right to your body,” 

Ozpin started to sob. “I really needed to hear that,” he cried. 

Barty merely held him close and ran a hand through his hair. 

“I did try to fight back,” Ozpin said, “I really wanted to escape… but with no magic, no semblance, no aura- and by that point I was so weak- she locked the neck chain to the bed- there was nothing I could do… I had to just… let it happen,” 

“It’s okay,” Barty soothed, “You didn’t have any options, you don’t have to feel guilty. That’s all Salem’s fault,” 

“But I feel like I should have been able to stop it-“ Ozpin argued, “If I had put up a stronger fight- if I hadn’t tried to-“ he burst into more sobs. 

Barty rubbed his back slowly. “What did you try to do?” he asked softly. 

“I- I’m sorry- I tried to- to- to kill myself-“ Ozpin managed, “I thought I could escape that way, only Salem found me, and she- she said she was going to show me that I was still worth keeping alive or something-“ 

“Oh Oz-“ Barty whispered, horrified, “That’s- that’s horrible. To hurt you like that when you were so vulnerable…” 

“You’re not mad at me?” Ozpin asked quietly, “for trying to- for trying to kill myself?” 

Barty shook his head. “I would be a hypocrite if I did- you forgave me after all,” 

“We’ve both been through the mill this month haven’t we,” Ozpin laughed mirthlessly.

Barty nodded, “but we made it, that’s what’s important. You’re here, and you’re safe,” 

“I’m… safe…” Ozpin whispered, as more tears suddenly started to run down his face, “I’m safe- I’m safe- I’m safe,” 

“You are,” Barty mumbled, “no one can hurt you now,” 

Ozpin closed his eyes, and snuggled Barty shoulder as the last tears fell from his eyes. 

“Breakfast?” Barty suggested, once Ozpin’s breathing had evened out. 

Ozpin nodded. “But first… can we just stay here for a minute? This- This is nice-“ 

And it was. In each other’s arms, they felt safe.


	16. Epilogue

Beacon was beautiful, Ozpin realised, as they drove up to it. Absolutely stunning. 

Oh, he’d missed this place so much. 

Once he got out if the car, he almost had an urge to explore the whole grounds, to make sure that nothing had changed. 

But first… his office. 

He went up in the familiar lift, and the doors opened to a site that was even more welcome than he had been anticipating. 

His office. His place, that he had designed. A safe place. 

He walked out onto the balcony, and leant on the bannister, looking out to the gardens that the sun was beating down on. 

Things may be difficult at the moment. But they would get better. He would recover from this. He would flourish again. 

No matter how long it took.


End file.
